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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26999803">This Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayshedreamed/pseuds/thewayshedreamed'>thewayshedreamed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>This Time AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fanfiction, NESSIAN AU, Nessian Friends w/ Benefits, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:33:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26999803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayshedreamed/pseuds/thewayshedreamed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nesta and Cassian have been best friends since they were 14 years old. Now 24, they mutually agree to a friends with benefits arrangement– no strings attached– that serves to meet their needs without complicating their decade of friendship. Several months later, they find themselves at a crossroads when Cassian confesses to falling in love with Nesta, leaving things anything but uncomplicated. </p><p>This fic contains angst, pining, jealousy, and the navigation of all the feels.</p><p>Warnings: Chapters may contain copious amounts of swearing, alcohol use, mentions of grief, allusions to sex, depictions of sex.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta / Azriel brotp, Nesta Archeron/Cassian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>This Time AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. This Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is actually the first thing that I’m publishing, so I’m nervous/ excited to see how it goes! Here’s a little Nessian angst in fulfillment of the prompt: “I never meant for it to go this far.”</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Cassian— don’t. We agreed.”</p><p>Nesta could feel her body temperature rising, sweat threatening to bead on her lower back. It always did that when she started to get flustered or angry.</p><p>Cassian paused to collect himself. She had never seen him this way before. He was sitting on her couch, elbows resting on his knees, and his head braced in his large hands. He rubbed his eyes roughly before meeting her gaze with such intensity. Where was her laidback best friend, with his easy smile and carefree demeanor? Why wasn’t he teasing her with his snarky comments? She wanted to hear his uninhibited laugh; usually at her expense when he’d finally gotten under her skin. Where was his insufferable flirtation, ending with his lips grazing over the long column of her neck?</p><p>”What do you want from me, Nes? You heard me. I know we agreed to keep this casual between us. I know we said we were both healing and finding comfort in a friend. I didn’t forget. This isn’t the result of carelessness, for fuck’s sake. I tried to keep clear lines between the roles we play for each other. This isn’t the result of my dishonesty either; I truly believed that we could pull this off. For the short term, anyway. <em>Gods</em>, Nesta. I have fought this. <b>I never meant for it to go this far</b>, but here I am. I am so fucking gone for you that I can’t see my way out.”</p><p>Nesta felt her jaw clenching. Of course Cassian was laying himself bare before her. An open book, his soul for the taking. These were the conversations she struggled to navigate, which is the precise reason she most often kept herself out of situations that would occasion them. Processing emotions, especially on the fly, was not her strength. She tried to label them. Definitely overwhelmed. Blind-sided. Appreciative of the sentiment. Betrayed. Exposed. Vulnerable.</p><p>She would never understand how one person could invoke so many contradicting emotions at once.</p><p>“Nesta? Say something. I’m kind of a fucking wreck here.” Cassian sat back into the couch cushions, looking toward where she stood. His eyes scanned her face for any sign at all that she was processing his confession.</p><p>Finally, she squared her shoulders and cocked her head to the side, saying, “Is this supposed to change anything? We had an agreement for a reason, Cassian. This was never an option for us. We decided together that we wanted friendship and sex with someone we trusted. We agreed our friendship was too important to risk it over—“</p><p>Cassian was suddenly on his feet, his temper flaring suddenly and intensely.</p><p>“Stop, Nesta! Don’t preach ‘the rules’ to me.” He gestured toward his own chest with his hands. “You don’t think I know? That I haven’t made myself sick thinking of how I’ve failed?! I’m sorry for deviating from the plan, <em>sweetheart</em>, but it’s too late to go back now.” He was yelling, but he quickly recovered once he realized the volume of his voice. He took a deep breath and traveled the few steps that separated them. Looking down at her, he scanned her face and finally landed on her steel blue eyes. Before he could help himself, he lifted his hand to her cheek, caressing her cheekbone with his thumb.</p><p>“I can’t do it anymore. Every time I leave you without telling you how in love with you I am, I feel like I’m dying. I want all of you, Nes. I get it if you can’t give that to me. I may need some time, but then, I’ll be back on friend duty. I just can’t do what we’re doing now without it killing me.”</p><p>Nesta so badly wanted to lean in to his caress, grip his shirt, and ask him to never leave. He was her best friend, and she knew they were flirting such a delicate line with this conversation. She didn’t handle this many emotions well at all, and she started to feel the walls closing in. If given 3-5 business days to properly process this much information, she could likely arrive at a well-formulated conclusion. She had learned the hard way over her teenage years and early twenties that matters of the heart don’t fit into her tendency for analytics well at all.</p><p>”You should go,” she said, as she crossed her arms over her chest.</p><p>Cassian’s hand fell to his side, but he didn’t step away. He looked so stunned, so hurt that her stomach twisted. She dropped her gaze to the floor to keep from crying.</p><p>”What?” He leaned to try and re-establish eye contact, but she stared resolutely at their feet. “We’ve been friends since we were 14. Ten years has to count for something.”</p><p>She could tell he was scrambling now; uncomfortable with leaving things as they were.</p><p>”<em>Of course</em> it does. It counts for everything. But do you really think we can go back to being <em>‘besties’</em> after this conversation?!” She gave his chest a small shove, her heart not truly in it.</p><p>“Everything is different, Cassian! We can’t be friends now!” Nesta was shouting, but she didn’t care at this point. One short conversation changed everything about their dynamic, and she was already grieving their friendship. The most consistent and supportive relationship in her life, gone. All he had to do was stick to their agreement. She felt frantic; torn between lashing out in anger and begging him to never leave.</p><p>“You don’t mean that.” His eyes narrowed as he slowly shook his head.</p><p>Nesta began to slowly back away from him, eyes never leaving his as she said, “I do mean it.”</p><p>”You know, it shouldn’t even surprise me anymore. This is what you do when things are complicated. Of course you’re going to walk away… from me, our friendship, everything.” Cassian’s voice was raspy and heavy with emotion.</p><p>“No,” Nesta said before turning away from him completely, “this time, it’s on <em>you</em>.”</p><p>She walked away and headed straight for her bedroom. She shut the door gently, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor. She hugged her legs close to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees. Once she heard the soft click of her front door, she finally let herself cry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. This Time, Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A dull throb in her temples caused Nesta to stir in the early hours of Sunday morning. She was vaguely aware that it was raining, thunder rolling in a steady rhythm. She turned onto her back and gritted her teeth at the intensifying pain in her head. It suddenly radiated from her temples, meeting in the middle of her forehead and behind her eyes. For the briefest of moments, she wondered about the luck she had (or didn’t have) to wake up feeling like this. No recent illness, no allergies, no alcohol the night before. She blinked into the darkness as she considered, willing her cognition to catch up to her conscious state. Her answer became apparent when her eyes felt gritty as she blinked, and upon rubbing them, she felt a faint tenderness over and around her lids.</p><p>Ah, that’s right. The crying.</p><p>The events of the previous night flooded her memory.</p><p>
  <em>I’m so gone for you…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You should go…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We can’t be friends after this conversation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You don’t mean that…</em>
</p><p>The maddeningly soft click of the door echoed in her mind repeatedly, emulating the rhythm of her heartbeat. She slammed her eyes shut and turned sharply onto her side to bury her face into the pillow.</p><p>So often, people talk about the all-consuming relief that comes with waking from a nightmare and realizing none of it was real. These are the stories told at dinner with family or friends, at lunch with co-workers, or at larger social gatherings. Account after account is shared of cheating spouses, car accidents, home invasions, etc., followed by an expression of overwhelming relief at realizing it was all a dream.</p><p>Almost never do people discuss the ugly alternative. The micro-interval of time immediately upon waking where one exists in blissful ignorance, followed by the sudden gut-punch of recollection. The ambush of emotions surrounding some life-altering event.</p><p>Nesta caught herself grasping for that tiny shred of time, just moments prior, where she was only navigating a headache.</p><p>She felt her pulse quicken and her body start to flush, both being clear indicators of her heightened anxiety. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she felt a slight tremble starting to run through her chest and stomach. She closed her eyes as tears threatened to pool yet again and focused on taking a few deep breaths. She lazily reached out, feeling around until she located another pillow across her too large bed. She clutched it tightly against her chest and abdomen, willing it to ground her somehow. Tucking it close to her body and keeping an iron grip, she started to count her breaths until she finally drifted back to sleep.</p><p>——</p><p>She had to cancel lunch with Elain and Feyre that Sunday, having slept long enough that she didn’t have enough time to make herself presentable. After explaining that she was suffering from a crippling headache (with no mention of its origin), they sent their well wishes and told her to call if she needed absolutely anything.</p><p>Her mornings persisted in a similar manner for the rest of the week. Usually one to rise on her first alarm, she couldn’t find the motivation to do so no matter how hard she tried. She snoozed her alarm a half-dozen times, finally dragging herself out of bed to dress quickly, grab a protein bar, and fly out the door for work.</p><p>Work served as a decent distraction from current events. She stayed busy and engaged, allowing her to completely ignore her phone and avoid any personal questions. She knew her sisters would be worried after telling them she was ill, and it was a matter of time before news of her and Cassian’s fight permeated their group of friends. Her sisters would likely put two and two together. Busy bodies. Fiercely loyal, protective, and supportive, but busy bodies all the same.</p><p>Several evenings that week she had received several variations of “check in” texts from them, as well as a couple of their friends.</p><p>Elain:</p><p>
  <b>”Hey, Nes! Hoping you’re feeling better. Just wanted to check in and see how you are!”</b>
</p><p>Feyre:</p><p>
  <b>”Just checking in, sister! I hadn’t heard from you since we cancelled lunch, so I hope you’re doing okay! Love you!”</b>
</p><p>Mor:</p><p>
  <b>”Hi, love! I haven’t seen you in DAYS. Far too long. Please tell me I’ll see you soon! And that you’re alive and well. &lt;3”</b>
</p><p>Amren:</p><p>
  <b>“Alright. Spill. What’s going on with you? You haven’t responded to anything I’ve sent you, and I’ve sent you some funny shit.”</b>
</p><p>Nesta drafted one text, copying and pasting it to each and every one of them. She didn’t have the emotional energy to answer the question at all, much less several times over.</p><p>
  <b>“Hey! Thanks for checking on me. I’m sorry I’m just getting back to you! Things have just been crazy this week. I’ve been busy, but I’m fine! We’ll get together soon.”</b>
</p><p>She stared at the lie over and over again.</p><p>
  <em>I’m fine…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m fine…</em>
</p><p>Although, deep down, she knew. If she were fine, she wouldn’t keep scrolling to a certain text thread. She wouldn’t be reading and re-reading their previous conversations, and she definitely wouldn’t be focused on the date and time stamp of the last received message from days ago.</p><p>———</p><p>Nesta had been conflicted about Saturday all week long. She had very specific plans: sleep as late as her body would possibly allow, have coffee on the back porch, catch up on her reading, take a long nap, stream as much nonsense television as she could handle, have a bottle of wine, go to sleep. She had been looking forward to the peaceful oblivion of deep sleep, yet she found herself dreading the passage of her free time. It had taken a couple of days to land on an acceptable itinerary, and she felt better with a certain course of action.</p><p>She awoke to her covers being abruptly pulled away and the pillow pulled off the top of her head. She groaned dramatically and turned over to identify the offender, fully prepared to sling insults their way for interrupting her sleep. Before she could formulate a cohesive thought, a deep, familiar voice interrupted her.</p><p>“Enough of this, Nes. Get up. We’re going to brunch,” the voice announced, his tone dry and neutral.</p><p>Nesta’s eyes shot open, falling on a pair of hazel eyes that dared her to be uncooperative.</p><p>“What the fuck, Az? How did you even get in here? And what if I were naked?!”</p><p>”Look, I pulled the short straw. You’ve barely spoken to anyone all week. When you did, your responses were short and contrived. Your friends and family are worried, and I got volunteered to enter the lion’s den as the only one who isn’t afraid of waking you up.”</p><p>”That doesn’t answer all my questions,” she muttered as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.</p><p>“I’ve driven you and your sisters home on enough drunken nights to know where your spare key is. And I saw the sleeve of your sweater before I pulled the covers off. Give me a little credit.” He turned away from her to walk out of her bedroom. As he crossed the threshold, he paused with his hand on the door jamb. He glanced over his left shoulder as he said, “You have 15 minutes. I’ll be in here waiting for you.”</p><p>Nesta really contemplated throwing a full-scale temper tantrum by throwing herself under the covers and refusing to get up. A deep rumble in her stomach ultimately made her decide against it, so she stood up and padded over to her closet. She selected her favorite pair of jeggings, silently thanking the Cauldron that she had worn them once already so that they were perfectly stretched. She grabbed a sports bra and a long-sleeved tunic, put on some casual sneakers, and walked over to her bathroom to finish getting ready.</p><p>She wasn’t one for much makeup anyway, so she opted to wash her face, moisturize, and apply a little mascara. She brushed her teeth, applied a generous layer of chapstick, and quickly French-braided her hair down the center of her back. She glanced down at her phone; 12 minutes. Suck on that, Azriel.</p><p>She walked out of her bedroom, down the hallway, and found Azriel perched on the arm of her sofa, scrolling through his phone. Sensing her approach, he locked his phone and stood.</p><p>“All ready?” He grabbed his keys from his front pocket.</p><p>“Sure. Whenever you are.” She looked around for her small purse and grabbed it off of the coffee table. “Wait… did you clean up in here?”</p><p>She knew there was something different when she walked in, but it had taken her a minute to realize what. Gone were the take out containers from her countertops and coffee table. All the various cups she had left all over her apartment were nowhere to be seen, and her blankets were folded neatly in a stack.</p><p>Azriel cleared his throat and looked around. “Not really. I noticed your trash can was full when I threw my gum away, and I thought it would be pointless to bring it out and not get everything.”</p><p>She bit her cheek to stop her smile at his sheepishness. He had always been a good friend to her, but she knew he preferred when it went under the radar. No one blushed faster or got more awkward than Azriel on the receiving end of appreciation or a compliment.</p><p>“Ah. I see. And I guess the blankets folded themselves, then. Or did you need to fold them to ‘get everything?’”</p><p>“Nes, you know I cleaned up in here, so can we go already?” He was already turning toward her door, flustered and mildly irritated with her teasing. She gripped his bicep to turn him around before he made it outside.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Az. You’re a wonderful friend, and I don’t deserve you. Let’s go have some brunch and forget it, ok?”</p><p>He gave her a sideways smile and playfully shoved her shoulder. “Fine. But next time, you’re walking.”</p><p>———-</p><p>The drive over to the small cafe was short, so the pair sat in comfortable silence on the way. Upon arriving, Azriel found a small table in the corner of the patio, instructed her to sit, and walked inside to place their order. When he returned, he was holding a mug of coffee for Nesta and a mug of earl grey tea for himself.</p><p>“The food should come out in about 10-15 minutes. I couldn’t remember how you take your coffee exactly, so I just brought you a ton of shit.” He wasn’t exaggerating. He placed a handful of different creamers and sweeteners in the center of the table.</p><p>Nesta gave a small chuckle at his gesture, noting that it felt good to laugh for the first time in days. She couldn’t help but feel grateful that it was Azriel who had pulled her out of bed this morning, if it had to be anyone. They were more alike than most would assume, and they had made very fast friends all those years ago. She loved the purity of their relationship, built on years of trust and mutual respect, but never crossing beyond anything other than platonic. Cassian had always joked about being “outnumbered” around the two of them, commenting on their likeness and how he managed to find kindred spirits as his best friends.</p><p>The thought of him elicited a slight pang in her stomach, and she quickly shoved it down. She was pulled from her thoughts by Azriel’s voice.</p><p>“So. You want to talk about what’s going on?”</p><p>”Gods, Azriel. I haven’t even gotten the caffeine in my system.”</p><p>He took a sip of his tea, only breaking eye contact to blow gently on the hot liquid. He regained eye contact as he set his mug back down.</p><p>“We haven’t heard anything genuine from you in a week. Forgive us for being a little worried. I’m assuming it has something to do with Cassian?”</p><p>As she suspected, hearing his name struck a nerve and caused a certain heaviness in her chest. She felt herself becoming defensive, and even though her logical mind knew it had nothing to do with Az, she was snapping at him before she realized it was happening.</p><p>“Why is everyone acting like I’m off the deep end?! Maybe I’ve just been busy for a week. Cauldron forbid if I take some time for my damn self. And why the fuck would you immediately jump to him? As if my life doesn’t exist beyond all of you? And beyond him?” She felt herself flush out of anger. Or embarrassment. Who the hell knew anymore?</p><p>Azriel seemed almost entirely unaffected by her verbal lashing. He took a couple of seconds, leaned forward with his forearms on the table, and clasped his hands in front of him. He looked at her intensely, and she knew she was not going to get anything sugarcoated in this conversation.</p><p>“Need I remind you that I know both of you like the back of my hand? I’m not shooting in the dark here. You’ve been essentially MIA for a week, and that timespan directly correlates with Cassian being an absolute terror to be around. The odds of that being a coincidence are incredibly low. So, Nes, I’ll ask you to please cut the shit.” He voice remained even and steady. There was no true malice in his words, just the bluntness that exists between two close friends. He picked up his mug, leaned back in his chair, and waited.</p><p>Nesta’s posture softened slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger. She let out a long breath and looked up to meet Azriel’s gaze again.</p><p>“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. And I should also realize by now that you notice fucking everything.”</p><p>He merely nodded, acknowledging her apology and prompting her to continue with one simple gesture. She blew out another breath, preparing herself to explain everything. In the meantime, their food arrived, so she waited until the waiter walked away before beginning her story. She told him everything, even the uncomfortable details. Cassian’s confession. Her reaction. His anger. Her anger. The devastation on his face. As much as she could remember of their interaction. And finally, the words she couldn’t stop replaying in her mind. <em><b>This time, it’s on you.</b></em></p><p>He listened intently, only offering small nods or slight facial expressions during the more intense parts of their conversation. Once she was finished, he let out a long whistle and said, “Damn, Nesta. You’re officially the most savage of the Archerons.”</p><p>“I’m sorry… what?”</p><p>“I’m not saying that to be insulting. I just meant that you kind of handed him his ass there.”</p><p>Nesta started at him, urging him to elaborate before she felt inclined to jump down his throat again. He picked up on her prompting and continued.</p><p>“Well, to be fair, Cassian’s full of it. The fact that he thought he was going to be able to sleep with you and continue being friends is short-sighted at best. Can’t blame him for trying, but considering how long he’s been in love with you, he was setting himself up for failure there.”</p><p>Now, she was gawking at him. How was he being so nonchalant about this bombshell? How long had Cassian been in love with her? And why the hell had he waited until now to say a damn word about it?</p><p>”How long, Azriel?” Her voice was so quiet that she wasn’t sure that he’d even heard her.</p><p>It was his turn to look surprised. “Are you telling me you didn’t know? Anyone within a mile of the two of you could have seen it.”</p><p>She shook her head, realizing she didn’t think she could handle the direction of this conversation. “Never mind. Regardless, we had an agreement that our friendship was too important to risk on anything serious and that it was supposed to remain purely casual. It’s done now. It’s not like it matters.”</p><p>A few seconds passed before she glanced up at Azriel. His brow was furrowed, conflicted with what he was going to say next.</p><p>”What? Just tell me.”</p><p>“Don’t you think that’s kind of bullshit, Nes? I get that you both agreed on those terms, but I think it’s kind of fucked overall. You’re telling me that the potential of a relationship wasn’t worth the risk but casual sex was worth it? That doesn’t make sense.”</p><p>She breathed sharply out of her nose before she responded. “Had the agreement been honored, we could have enjoyed our time together, and we could have stopped once life events called for it. If one of us started dating someone… if one of us moved… things like that. It’s fairly straightforward.” She wasn’t trying to hide the bite behind her words, but he still didn’t seem offended. She tried not to find his level-headedness infuriating, but her patience was thinning by the second. To her surprise, his composure slipped a little.</p><p>”And how did you think that was going to play out? You both would shake hands, go your own ways, and continue to hang out with each other as before? You would have been totally fine with Cassian dating another woman? And do you really think Cassian would be a-okay with sitting in the front row at your wedding one day? Has it ever occurred to you that you two always dislike anyone that the other dates? No one ever loves Cassian the right way. No one ever makes Nesta happy enough. Why do you think that—“</p><p>”Alright, alright! I get it.“ She held her hands up in supplication. “The fact remains, though, that it’s over. It’s done. We screwed up, and it cost me my best friend. We’ll never be the same.” She felt her eyes brimming with tears.</p><p>She was vaguely aware of Azriel apologizing for his outburst and suggesting that they head back. She forced a nod, stood up from her chair, and walked to his car. Once inside and buckled, he turned to her.</p><p>”Hey. I really am sorry.”</p><p>”Don’t apologize. You were being honest with me, which is something I’ve always valued so much in you. Don’t go soft on me now.” She managed the smallest of smiles.</p><p>“Deal. But the same goes for you. Our mutual honesty has saved us a lot of trouble over the years. Makes our friendship easy.”</p><p>”You’re right. Why couldn’t it have been us to fall in love?” She huffed a laugh, making sure he knew her comment was in jest. She turned to look at him as he finished backing out of their parking spot.</p><p>Azriel hit his brakes a little harder than usual at her words. He chuckled, turning to look at her with a small smile. “What good would that do us? What would we do for fun? Brood?”</p><p>Nesta laughed, truly laughed, at the truth in his words. Azriel made a wonderful friend to her, but there would be very little personal growth within their hypothetical relationship. She smiled at him, squeezed his forearm briefly, and said, “Fair enough. I guess we wouldn’t push each other to grow all that much.”</p><p>He continued to drive, eyes straight ahead. He still wore signs of amusement on his face, but his tone turned a little more serious. “No. We wouldn’t. I think that’s why Cassian has always been a great balance for people like us. We get way too comfortable in the dark.”</p><p>”Mmm. People like Cassian, for sure. Maybe people like Elain, too?” She gave him a knowing smile.</p><p>He pulled up in the driveway and placed the car in park before looking at her. She could see the faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of her sister, but she wouldn’t push him. She knew he was smitten with Elain and had been for some time. She hadn’t spoken to him plainly about it, but she could tell by the way they interacted that they were a matter of time. Inevitable, even.</p><p>“We’re not talking about me today. Only you.”</p><p>She giggled at his deflection. “Thank you again for today. I needed the coffee, the waffles, the venting, and the swift kick in the ass.”</p><p>”Of course. Speaking of Ellie, what’s your plan for her birthday party next weekend? You know Cass will be there.”</p><p>“Oh, man. I think I blocked that out.” She opened the door, stepped out of the car, and peered down at him before adding, ”That, my friend, is something I will have to play by ear.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is a long one, but I wanted to give some insight into Nesta’s headspace while also setting the occasion for the next part! Sorry for no Nessian interaction, but I just love the idea of a Nesta x Azriel brotp. I couldn’t help myself. Nessian interaction to come, I promise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. This Time, Part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After her brunch with Azriel, Nesta committed to trying to get back into her usual routines. She allowed herself one less press of the snooze button each morning and made time for an outdoor run each evening. She cooked a small meal for herself each night, packing any leftovers for her lunch the next day. Slowly but surely, she was getting back to good, and she felt pleased overall with her swift improvement considering her mental state of the week prior. </p><p>That’s not to say her mind didn’t wander occasionally to Cassian and the state of their friendship. She challenged herself to feel the emotions those thoughts invoked, process them, but avoid ruminating too much. Admittedly, they ebbed and flowed, alternating between anger and sadness. In that way, moving on from Cassian emulated grief on a certain level, the loss being entirely disruptive to her day-to-day life. She had picked up her phone several times over the course of the week, considering a text to ensure things would be civil for Elain’s birthday party. She thought better of it when she realized that if anyone was skilled in presenting a game face, ever the social diplomat, it was Cassian. She was better off having the “civil” conversation with herself. </p><p>That Saturday morning, she was drinking coffee and scrolling through current events when an alert crossed her screen. It was a group text, including all of their immediate friends, finalizing plans for Elain’s party. They were going to meet at Rita’s around 9pm for drinks since Elain wanted things pretty low-key; however, Mor made promises of a respectable amount of debauchery. </p><p>Around 7:00, Nesta got into the shower, giving herself extra time to sit under the steam and ease any lingering tension. She ran through her plan for keeping her distance from Cassian as best as possible without making things uncomfortable. Thankfully, the hustle and bustle of the bar itself would create a buffer between them, allowing her to maneuver out of his way as smoothly as possible. It still felt so foreign to have these thoughts associated with Cassian, but she would accept nothing less than a drama-free night out for her perfect sister’s birthday. Their dynamic would have to be addressed on another occasion. If ever. </p><p>She shut off the water once it started to chill and wrapped herself in a towel. She used another towel to soak any excess water from her long hair before working a wide-toothed comb through her waves. She tapped the screen of her phone to check the time, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw a notification bearing Cassian’s name on her screen. </p><p>Cassian: <b>Sorry, fam. Just getting out of work and catching up on all these texts. Heading home to shower, then heading to Rita’s to meet you. Remember to save a dance for me, El-Bell! </b> 😘</p><p>Unsure of why she half-expected the notification to be anything other than a response in their group chat, Nesta loosed a breath. Their distance over the last two weeks was telling enough, and she knew deep down that he wouldn’t have picked now to break any silence. Ultimately, she decided it was for the best this way. She had gotten through the first contact without having to unpack a ton of emotions she wasn’t comfortable with, so she celebrated the tiny win. </p><p>She turned her attention back to her reflection to decide on her look for the night. She landed on a tousled ponytail, her waves cascading behind her, and a few short tendrils falling naturally around her face. Satisfied with her hair situation, she applied a little make-up, cursing creatively at her liquid eyeliner in the process. Once she applied a sheer gloss, she was ready to tackle wardrobe. She decided on a pair of black high-waisted jeggings, a black, cropped tank, and a casual, dark hunter green blazer.  She slid into black, wedged sandals, put on gold hoops, and grabbed her clutch before walking toward the door. </p><p>She ordered a Lyft, opting for ride share so that she would be likely to get one sooner. She looked at the time: 8:40pm. Rita’s was a little over ten minutes from her apartment, so she had ample time to get a car and arrive without being late. After what seemed like seconds, her phone  beeped with the details of her driver’s car and alerting her that they would be pulling up in a few minutes. She opted to wait outside her apartment, just in case the driver had trouble finding her building. A white sedan pulled up, confirmed she was Nesta, and she slid into the front seat. As her luck would have it, the individuals she was sharing with were in, what looked like, the beginning stages of a very affectionate relationship. She tuned out their soft murmurs, propping her elbow up near the window, used her fingers to prop her head, and kept her attention forward for the rest of the ride. </p><p>———</p><p>Nesta was several drinks in and was starting to feel that slow warmth creeping throughout her body. She definitely wasn’t drunk, but she was just buzzed enough to relax into their circle booth as she watched her friends on the dance floor. Elain was dancing animatedly with Feyre, the two spinning each other around and throwing their heads back with laughter. The sight warmed her heart, and she made a mental note to tell them how much she loved them later.</p><p> <br/>Oh yea, she was buzzed indeed. </p><p>She glanced over to the others in the booth with her. Amren was to her right, nursing her drink and occasionally laughing at their friends’ antics. Across the circle table was Az, with his forearms crossed and resting on the table. Noticing the small smile on his face, she followed his gaze and landed on Elain. Emboldened by the alcohol, she typed a text and sent it his way. </p><p>N: <b>Would you, for the love of the Cauldron, stop making eyes at my little sister?</b></p><p>She watched him grab his phone, huff a small laugh, and begin typing back to her. </p><p>A: <b>I would, if she wasn’t so perfect. </b></p><p>He glanced her way, taking a long sip of his beer while he awaited her reaction. Either he was drunk, Nesta thought, or he was trying very hard to get under her skin. She glanced up at him and pantomimed a gag. She saw his shoulders shake a little as he chuckled. </p><p>N: <b>Ew. Have you given her a gift yet?</b></p><p>A: <b>You asked for it. And, no. Why? If you’re about to make any suggestions, you’re too late. I’ve already bought it. </b></p><p>Nesta scrolled through her GIFs, feeling playful and wanting to watch her friend squirm a little. It only took a few seconds for her to land on the GIF she was looking for: an animation of Justin Timberlake and Andy Samburg for The Lonely Island’s “Dick in a Box”. She added a short caption.</p><p>N: <b>I just think this could be a contender. </b></p><p>She slowly sipped her drink, watching him over the rim of her glass. She saw his phone light up, his eyes scan the texts, and suddenly, he was having to clamp his lips shut to avoid sputtering his beer across the table. Nesta threw her head back and let out a loud laugh. She was feeling quite pleased with herself as he glared at her. </p><p>A: <b>Unbelievable. I’m blocking you.</b> </p><p>Nesta was still chuckling to herself when she noticed Amren’s attention on them. She leaned over to Nesta and deadpanned, “Secrets don’t make friends, you know.” </p><p>Nesta showed the text thread to Amren, much to Azriel’s chagrin. Not only did Amren find just as much amusement in Azriel’s discontent, she fully supported Nesta’s suggestion. They bickered playfully regarding the topic until Amren decided to take matters into her own hands, pushing Azriel out of the booth and stating, “We’re going to join them. Let’s go, Nesta!” Not a request, as per the usual with Amren.</p><p> <br/>They made their way through the crowd, finding Elain and Feyre in the middle of the floor. Rhysand, Mor, and Cassian were nearby, having run into their old friend, Kallias. Nesta avoided looking in their general direction, deciding she was in too good a mood to go down that train of thought. Especially with lowered inhibitions and unaddressed emotions.  Bad combination. </p><p>She heard Elain squeal in delight at her joining them on the dance floor, and there was no way she could turn her down seeing the joy on her face. She wasn’t usually one to dance much at all, usually leaning into her role as a wallflower, but she wanted to make her sister as happy as possible on her birthday. </p><p>
  <em>If I can’t make myself happy these days, at least I could make sure they’re happy. </em>
</p><p>She quickly pushed the thought away, deciding there was no room for her cynicism tonight. After dancing for a couple of songs, she realized she needed to use the restroom and let her friends know that’s where she was headed. Before she walked away, she lifted Elain’s arm into the air, spinning her dramatically into Azriel’s unsuspecting form. As she walked away, she heard a loud and high-pitched, “Az! Hi!” She looked over her shoulder to see him bracing her at the waist and Elain throwing her arms around his neck as if he hadn’t been there the entire night.  </p><p>Nesta made her way toward the restrooms, finding the door locked. She leaned against the opposite wall, crossing her arms and resting her head back while she waited. Now that she was standing still, she found herself blinking against her clouded vision, brought about by her ever-strengthening buzz. She looked ahead as she heard someone exiting the bathroom, taking longer than she usually would to realize who was in front of her: Tomas Mandray. </p><p>“Nesta? Hey!” Tomas stepped forward to give her a small hug. “Long time, no see!”</p><p>Nesta returned the hug, quickly sliding into a mask of politeness as she prepared herself for small talk with someone she hadn’t seen in years. She had dated Tomas for a very brief period of time; nothing too serious. They had been much younger, more immature, but he had been nice enough. They were still too selfish at the time to invest more in each other, and they had ended things mutually. </p><p>“How are you? It’s good to see you!” She pulled back and gave him a small smile. They talked briefly about what they had been doing in recent years, if they had seen any of their old mutual friends, etc., when she felt the presence of another person approaching from her left. It was Tomas who addressed him first.</p><p>”Hey, Cassian. How’s it going?” He extended his hand for a brief handshake.</p><p>“It’s going, man. Just taking a quick bathroom break.” He turned his gaze to Nesta, greeting her so politely that she could have slapped him. “Hey, Nesta.”</p><p>”Hey, Cassian.” She tried to sound as friendly as possible to avoid signaling to Tomas that there was any discord. </p><p>“So, Mandray. What about you? How have you been?” Cassian had shifted his attention back to Tomas quickly, likely with the same goal in mind. </p><p>“Pretty good. I moved for a little while, but I just moved back to Velaris this week for work. I haven’t had much time to get out and about with trying to settle in, but I’m glad to be back.”</p><p>”I didn’t realize you’d moved back! I guess we’ll be seeing you around more often!” Cassian gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. </p><p>“Yea, you all are some of the first people I’ve run into that I still know from before. Nice to see some friendly faces, for sure. Anyway, I won’t keep you.” He looked from Cassian to Nesta, addressing her fully. “Want to get together for dinner soon? Old time’s sake?”</p><p>”Oh. Sure! Sounds good.” He seemed satisfied with that answer and walked away.</p><p> <br/>Cassian waited until Tomas was walking back into the main area of the bar before he turned to Nesta. She was still leaning against the wall, her foot propped back against it, and arms crossed in front of her chest. Despite her better judgment, she looked up at him and couldn’t help but track her eyes over the angles of his handsome face. Her eyes lingered on the small scar through his eyebrow, traced his cheekbones, jaw, until finally, landing on his hazel eyes.</p><p> <br/>“So. Mandray, huh?” She saw the tension in his jaw, likely knowing he had no right to ask the question but wanting to know anyway. </p><p>Her first thought was to tell him to fuck off, but she thought better of it. She still needed to keep her lid on those unaddressed emotions, regardless of the fact that it was busting at the seams now. She schooled her face into indifference and lifted her chin, refusing to shy away from his question. </p><p>“Is that jealousy, Cass? It’s not becoming.” She continued to hold his gaze. She hoped her neutral expression didn’t slip upon hearing his response, his honesty surprising her. </p><p>“Yea. It is.” He huffed a laugh and had the good sense to look sheepish. “How do you expect me not to be jealous? I know too much.” He was scanning her face now, all too similar to how he gauged her reaction that last time they were together. </p><p>“You know too much? What could you possibly know about Tomas? He’s been back in Velaris for all of 10 minutes, and you haven’t heard from him in years. He could be a totally different person.” She kept her tone even, matter of fact.</p><p> <br/>He closed the distance between them, bracing his forearm on the wall next to her head. She had to look up slightly to maintain eye contact and felt suddenly assaulted by his familiar scent: something woodsy with hints of smoke and rain. They were so close that she could also smell the whiskey he had been drinking throughout the night. He slid his other hand into his front pocket and shifted his weight casually to one side. </p><p>“I don’t know shit about Mandray, Nes. I’m talking about you and the things that wreck me to think he’d learn about you.”</p><p>Although she knew she shouldn’t ask it, the question left her lips. “And just what is it that you know about me?” </p><p>A small smirk graced the side of his mouth, yet his eyes were so earnest that she couldn’t bear to hold the smirk against him. He wet his lips and cleared his throat before answering her. “For starters, the way your body flushes. It usually starts right about here,” he removed his hand from his pocket to touch the center of her chest with his index finger, “and it travels upward to here.” He softly dragged his knuckle from right below where her necklace fell to her collarbone. He shifted his hand to run the pad of his thumb over the prominent bone, toward her shoulder. He gently cupped it near her shoulder seam, softly grazing his palm toward her neck. “All across here.” He moved his large hand to cup the side of her neck, running his thumb over her delicate jaw. “Up here.” He finally slid his hand to cup her face, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. “And ending up here.” </p><p>She wasn’t sure she was breathing, but she didn’t have it in her to pull away. Not when her blood was singing at his proximity, at his scent, everything. She swallowed hard and tried to steady her breathing. She was only partially aware of someone sweeping past them to occupy the bathroom, effectively gluing her the spot. </p><p>“Then, your breathing starts to pick up. You take deep breaths and release them in soft pants.” He moved his hand to trace the shell of her ear with his thumb, and Cauldron boil her if she didn’t lean in slightly to his caress. He cupped the side of her neck as he dipped his head, their cheeks barely grazing, and lowered his voice. </p><p>“After a while, you start to kill me with your soft moans and your small whines, and you <em>really</em> kill me when my name starts to fall from your lips. That’s when I know you’re close, Nes.”</p><p>She wasn’t sure how long she could go with such shallow breaths before passing out on the tile below her, but between that, the tightening in her core, and his small ministrations, she couldn’t imagine that it would be long at all. She could feel his stubble against her cheek and his breath against her ear. His voice was low and raspy, adding to the onslaught of sensations. When she felt his nose graze her temple ever so slightly, her hands moved forward of their own volition, finding their home on his rib cage.</p><p>
  <em>How did this escalate so quickly?</em>
</p><p>He continued to graze his nose gently over her temple, his lips brushing it as well. “You have the smallest of veins that presents itself right here. Only right before I feel you come for me.”</p><p>At his words, she felt herself gripping his shirt tightly around his ribs. He left out a small hiss, then a groan, before the bathroom door flew open again. He shielded her with his body, waiting until the person leaving the bathroom was well into the bar before looking at her. He squeezed his eyes shut, gently shook his head, and cleared his throat. </p><p>“Umm. I think that’s you, Nes,” he said. He started to lean away from her, the moment gone, and she felt the absence of his warmth immediately. Unable to formulate an actual reply, she merely nodded before stepping around him to enter the bathroom. Once inside, she leaned back against the door, begging her brain to catch up with what just happened. She blinked toward the ceiling and breathed deeply to try and cool her blood, a solitary thought playing on a loop in her head.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, fuck.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I realize this isn’t an ideal place to leave off, but it was the most logical place to break it into parts! I had fun writing a buzzed (approaching drunk) and playful Nesta because I feel like she’s so dynamic. Sometimes I feel like she gets pigeonholed into this one-dimensional, miserable character, but even people who are in pain have their moments where the facets of their personality shine through. I hope that comes through in this chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. This Time, Part 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for strong language, mention of underage drinking, and mentions of grief.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After her heart no longer threatened to jump into her throat, Nesta managed to use the restroom and wash her hands, giving herself a silent pep talk in the mirror. She paused at the door, steeled herself, and walked into the bar, as if Cassian hadn’t completely mind-fucked her less than ten minutes ago.</p><p>Still determined to keep the night drama-free, she walked over to the bar, ordered herself two shots of whiskey, and walked over to their booth to sit. Amren had returned to the table, joined by Feyre, Mor, and Elain. Nesta slid into the booth next to the birthday girl, greeting her with a bump of her shoulder, and took the first of her shots.</p><p>“Oh gods. That looks terrible.” Elain scrunched up her nose as she stared at the next shot.</p><p>“It does the job!” Nesta took a deep breath and threw the second shot back with impressive speed. She was usually one to be more conservative on their nights out, so her back-to-back shots were met with cheers from around the table. Elain rested her head on Nesta’s shoulder as she giggled, followed by a slurred, “I’m so happy you’re here, Nessie. I love you.”</p><p>They ordered another round of drinks as they changed erratically from one topic of conversation to another. When Nesta heard the ice clinking at the bottom of her empty glass, she suddenly realized the compound effects of her earlier drinks, her shots, and the one she just finished. She noted how her vision was truly starting to blur as the room spun, and she felt her body flush. She leaned over to Elain and let her know she was going to step outside for some fresh air. She assured her repeatedly that she would be okay.— Yes, she had her phone on her.— No, she didn’t need anyone to accompany her. She slid out of the booth and walked briskly toward the front door of the bar.</p><p>Once she made it outside, she walked down the side of the building in an attempt to find a quieter spot to lean against the wall. There was a group of men outside; obviously having a celebration of sorts and being as loud and unruly as humanly possible. She aimed to increase her distance from them, walking down the building and closer and closer to the parking lot. She found herself staring down an aisle of parked vehicles, eyes landing on a familiar truck about halfway down the row. Before she realized where her feet were carrying her, she was staring at the tailgate of the truck, hand reaching for the handle. She worked through her faulty, drunken logic.</p><p>
  <em>Surely he wouldn’t mind if I sat on his tailgate instead of the ground.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s likely a little safer to sit here than it would be right next to a group of drunk men, alone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The group would be out for a while yet, so as long as she closed it, he’d never know anyway.</em>
</p><p>Tired of standing in her wedges and unable to think of a single reason not to do it, she lowered the tailgate. She turned around, braced herself on her hands, and hopped to lift herself enough to sit. She dangled her legs, swinging them back and forth lightly. She took a few steadying breaths, already feeling better than she had inside. There was a soft breeze kissing the back of her neck and cooling her cheeks. She felt incredibly content for the first time in weeks, and she shuddered at how the familiarity of where she sat contributed to the feeling.</p><p>After several minutes, she got bored of staring at the few cars across the aisle from her and the ones leaving. She scooted back several feet into the bed of the truck so that her legs were supported and lay back to look at the sky for a little while. She lost herself in trying to identify constellations that her mother had shown her years ago and whispered a quiet hello to the woman she missed so much. It was always surprising to her how many she remembered after all this time, especially considering that the pace of her life didn’t allow for much stargazing anymore.</p><p>She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the footsteps that approached from her left. She had located the five brights stars in a small “v” that told her she was looking at Taurus, and was tracing her gaze up to the two bright stars marking the horns when she was abruptly pulled from her thoughts.</p><p>“Well, well. What do we have here?” Cassian asked the question through a soft chuckle, but Nesta still jumped in surprise. Her head popped up, eyes snapping toward him instantly.</p><p>“Shit, Cassian. You scared me.” She relaxed into her prior position but angled her chin down to maintain eye contact. It was surprisingly comfortable in the bed of this truck.</p><p>He lifted his eyebrows at her words, one lifting slightly higher than the other. They always had when he was truly surprised, not that she noticed. His eyes were still upturned at the corners, and it calmed her to know he wasn’t annoyed with her blatant use of his property.</p><p>“I’m sorry?… That wasn’t my intention, but I didn’t really expect to see you in the bed of my truck, either. Kind of seems like you should have expected me to come by at some point, at least.” He was still giving her a mischievous smile, and she realized that she would have to quickly get a leash on her thoughts to get through another interaction.</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head quickly. “Oh. Yea. No, I know. I think I just figured that I’d be back inside before you made it out here,” she said, as if it was the most reasonable explanation in the world. “Are you leaving? I’m really sorry, I’ll get out.” She sat up, but before she could start to scoot herself down, a broad hand wrapped gently around her shin.</p><p>”Stay. I’m not leaving anytime soon. Kallias left a little while ago, and he called me to tell me he thought he saw my tailgate down. I didn’t remember leaving the bed open, so I came out to check. Relax.” He offered a soft smile, and she felt her heart skip at his sincerity. He removed his hand from her shin to lean forward and brace himself on both hands. Her eyes caught on the little bit of his tattoos that were visible on his chest and traced down his arms. Before she could silently berate herself for her staring, he was speaking again.</p><p>“So. What are you doing out here, Archie?” He looked up from the tailgate, amusement crinkling his eyes at the corners. She groaned dramatically at the old nickname that he gave her in high school. She had a love-hate relationship with it; hate because it was awful, love because he coined it. He used it less and less as they got older, but it still made its appearance every now and then when he teased her.</p><p>“<em>Gods</em>, can we please let ‘Archie’ go? It’s so terrible.” She couldn’t help the small giggle that erupted out of her as she talked. She took a deep breath before answering his question. “My drinks hit me all at once inside, so I came out to get some fresh air.“ She adjusted her body a little to situate herself and lifted her gaze back to the sky. “I’m doing drunk people things and laying down to look at the stars until I can handle going back in there.” She gave a small smirk as she let her head fall to the side, looking at him again.</p><p>“For one, as long as I’m living, ‘Archie’ stays. You might as well lean into it. For two, perfectly reasonable. I’m glad I could offer the proper amenities for your drunk stargazing.” He winked at her then, a friendly gesture rather than suggestive in any way. She could tell he was more relaxed than before, the alcohol likely taking its effect on him, too.</p><p>She cleared her throat and asked the question on her tongue before she could think better of it.</p><p>“Are you in a hurry to go back inside? Join me?” She patted the space next to her for good measure.</p><p>
  <em>You’re doing a terrible job of ‘leashing’ yourself, Nesta.</em>
</p><p>“I think I could spare a few minutes for you, Archie.” He turned around and easily sat on the tailgate. He pushed himself backwards to lay on his back next to her, only to be met with her hard glare. He let out a laugh then, shaking his head at her and looking at the sky.</p><p>“You know, this is pretty nostalgic.” He brought his arm to rest under his head, settling into a comfortable position as he spoke.</p><p>“I have to agree with you on that,” she said through a laugh. It was oddly reminiscent of their late high school and early college days of underage drinking at any and every party. So often, they would find themselves drunk, laying in the bed of his truck or on someone’s porch, sharing drinks and stories from earlier in the night.</p><p>“The only thing missing is a pint of cheap liquor that we had no business drinking.”</p><p>”Don’t forget the straw.” Nesta was grinning now and resisting the urge to look at him. His proximity, combined with their shared memories, was already a lot to navigate.</p><p>”I would never. I’ve received enough verbal lashings in my day to always remember the straw.” They were both laughing now, enjoying the comfortable banter. “I still don’t understand your insistence on that.” Their laughter faded into comfortable silence, and she noticed his head turn toward her lazily once they fell quiet. She looked over at him and watched his Adam’s apple bob before he spoke.</p><p>“I’ve really missed my friend,” he said quietly, as he shifted his arm closer to her. He grazed his knuckles over the back of her palm, and his eyes scanned her face.</p><p>She continued to look at him, unsure she could break it even if she tried. “Me too. Really.” Her voice was almost a whisper.</p><p>He swiftly picked up the heavier atmosphere settling over them and shifted both of his hands toward his body. He laced them over his stomach as he shifted his attention back to the sky. “So, which constellation were you so invested in when I walked up?”</p><p>She looked back up at the sky before answering him. “Taurus.”</p><p>“That’s a good one. Momma Archie would be proud that you remember.” She was touched by the affection she heard in his voice for her mother. He’d grown close to her in their years as friends and had taken it hard when she passed. His tone shifted into something a little more playful when he said: “Even though you’re feeding every rom com stereotype of the drunk girl, staring wistfully at the stars, and—“</p><p>She interrupted him with a laugh and a jab to the ribs. “Shut up! Don’t you dare make fun of me, you shit.”</p><p>He feigned a deep groan, as if her jab had truly wounded him, and clutched his side. “Gods, keep your sharp elbows on your side of the truck.” He seemed to recover quickly, his tone dripping with jest, “Is this the part where I point out a really obscure constellation that reminds me of you, and you fall madly in love with me?” There was nothing implied by the question, she realized; his only aim to give her a hard time.</p><p>“As if I would expect you to know any of them. Much less the rare ones,” she deadpanned, even though she failed to completely hide her smile. Before she knew what was happening, he was sitting up suddenly and rolling toward her. His hands found each side of her rib cage, and he started to tickle her mercilessly.</p><p>“Don’t be a jerk! I’m more than just a pretty face, I’ll have you know.” He was laughing as he spoke, fully delighting in her misery.</p><p>“Okay, okay, <em>okay</em>! You win! Cassian, PLEASE.” She was laughing so hard that tears started to pool in the corners of her eyes.</p><p>He finally stopped his torture, looking down at her through bright eyes. She was acutely aware of how close his face was to hers, their noses almost touching. She felt the weight of his leg casually thrown over one of hers during the tousle, and she blushed at the heat she felt throughout her body at the contact. His eyes softened slightly and, before she could ask him what was wrong, he spoke softly. “Fuck… I was hoping some time away from you would help a little more.” He lingered for only a couple of seconds, shifted his weight, and rolled away from her to sit up on the tailgate.</p><p>It took her mind a minute to realize his meaning, and she immediately felt guilty. This was all her fault to begin with, not only in how she responded to him those weeks ago, but in inviting him to sit with her tonight. She sat up next to him and placed her hands under her thighs to avoid reaching for him.</p><p>She furrowed her brows and cleared her throat. “And I’m assuming that it didn’t help as much as you wanted?” It was odd conversation to broach, but it seemed insensitive to say nothing at all.</p><p>His hands were braced on the outside of his thighs, his shoulders slumped as he looked out into the parking lot. He turned his head toward her subtly, only looking at her through his side eye.</p><p>”Didn’t even touch it.” He gave her a sad smile before he broke eye contact.</p><p>One would assume that after ten years of friendship, she would no longer be surprised at how open he could be. She marveled at the genuine man next to her and how he managed to never let the trauma of life change who he was. She envied him, to a certain extent, because she didn’t think herself capable of trying to even fake that level of openness with others.</p><p>“Cass, I’m sorry, I—“</p><p>”Don’t.” There was no bite in his words, only an insistence that she not blame herself. “It’s ok.” He ran one hand through his long curls before hopping off the tailgate. He extended his hand to her.</p><p>“Ready to go back? The ladies will send the troops looking for you if you stay out much longer.”</p><p>She accepted his hand long enough to slide off the tailgate and gain solid footing. She smoothed the back of her jeans to make sure they weren’t dusty, straightened her blazer, and offered him a smile.</p><p>“You lead the way.”</p><p>——</p><p>It was only another hour or so that passed before Elain felt she had sufficiently celebrated her birthday. They were sitting in their booth again, joined by Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. Mor had dragged Cassian and Amren to the dance floor, clearly having gotten her second wind.</p><p>Elain yawned and looked over to Nesta. “Nessie… Would you be ready to go?”</p><p>”Sure, El. Want me to get you home? I can get us a Lyft.”</p><p>”Mmm. I’m thinking slumber party. Your house.” She smiled sweetly, knowing she was going to request birthday breakfast the next morning.</p><p>Nesta rolled her eyes knowingly. “Fine. My house it is.” She ordered their car.</p><p>“Hey! I wanna come!” Feyre’s blue eyes flared, and her expression was one of a petulant toddler. It was a reaction bred from years as the family baby, always fearing she was being left out. Nesta felt another rush of affection for her; for both of them.</p><p>Within minutes, they were piling into a small SUV. Feyre sat behind the driver, Elain in the middle, and Nesta slid in next to her. Their driver was polite and quiet, confirming their destination and falling silent the rest of the drive.</p><p>“Nessie, I’m mad at you.” Elain slurred the words as she rested her head on Feyre’s shoulder, eyes closed. Nesta snapped her head in her direction, not even remotely aware of what she could have possibly done to upset her in the last five minutes.</p><p>“What the hell for?!” Her voice wasn’t loud, but her surprise was obvious.</p><p>”Because you’re friends with Az.”</p><p>Nesta was quiet for a moment as she considered. ”You’re going to have to give me more to go off of, El.”</p><p>Elain huffed a breath through her nose and said, “You’re so close to Az. And that sucks for me because he’s never going to even look at me. Cause I’m your little sister. And he’s nice and considerate and wouldn’t want to make you mad.”</p><p>
  <em>Ohhh, I see. So she’s confirming what we all knew already. She likes Azriel.</em>
</p><p>Feyre let out a soft giggle and lay her head on top of Elain’s. She rested her hand affectionately on Elain’s leg, a gesture that aimed to soothe her sister’s drunken anxieties. Nesta couldn’t fight her smile at Elain’s “angry” words and disguised her amusement as best as possible as she spoke.</p><p>“Ellie, I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s not like Az is afraid of me in the slightest. Plus, he’s basically the only man that I’d find worthy of you.”</p><p>”Okay. Well, nevermind, then.” She yawned and was dozing within seconds.</p><p>Nesta’s eyes met Feyre’s identical ones across the car, and they both had to suppress their giggles to avoid waking her. The night had been a roller coaster of emotions, and she wasn’t sure how she could ever survive life’s ups and downs without the two women in the car with her. Sure, there were times where her and Feyre would almost come to blows, and Elain’s gentle spirit would tire of their hotheadedness. But no one else would ever know her like they knew her.</p><p>Thinking over the course of the night, she started to feel compelled to reach out to Cassian. She alternated between the compulsion and the rationale part of her brain (likely the sobering part) that was telling her it was a terrible idea.</p><p>
  <em>Are we okay? Does he resent me even more? Is he annoyed that I put us in this position?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why do you care? This is what you wanted. What you demanded of him.</em>
</p><p>She suppressed the reason threatening to deter her, opened their text thread, and typed a short message.</p><p>N: <b>It was really was good to see you tonight. Sorry I didn’t get to say bye. Just wanted to reach out and tell you to be safe getting home.</b></p><p>She hit send before she could overthink it and locked her phone to avoid staring at the screen. She knew she would only find herself willing the ellipsis to pulse and show he was typing. As luck would have it, they were already pulling up to her apartment complex, and her attention would be monopolized by getting her sisters inside and comfortable. They woke Elain up and prompted her to walk inside to Nesta’s bedroom. She dug through her drawers to get them each some nightclothes, all but forced them to wash their faces, and forced spare toothbrushes into their hands. She padded into her room to change into her own night clothes, plugged in all of their phones, and made sure they each had a pillow across her king bed. She chuckled to herself at the eldest sister caregiving behaviors that would likely never leave her. Elain and Feyre walked briskly into the room, Elain announcing proudly that she called ‘middle’ as the birthday girl. They settled into the sheets and both of her little sisters were asleep within minutes. She was on the brink of unconsciousness herself when her phone vibrated on her bedside table, startling her awake. She blinked against the brightness of the screen to focus on who was calling her.</p><p>
  <em>Shit, it’s Cassian. Shit shit shit.</em>
</p><p>She hit ‘accept’ and quickly brought the phone to her ear. She whispered her “Hello?” before glancing over at her sisters to make sure they weren’t disturbed. Not in the slightest.</p><p>She was met with rustling sounds, much like those of someone’s pocket during an accidental dial, and muffled conversations. She assumed he had, in fact, pocket dialed, but she waited a few more seconds. She told herself she should just in case he was trying to get situated, sabotaged by the alcohol coursing through his system. She repeated her greeting but didn’t want to get any louder for her sisters’ sakes. She was about to hang up when she heard his voice coming clearly through the phone.</p><p>“I know! I haven’t seen you in what, almost a year?”</p><p>”Yea, almost exactly! I’m surprised we don’t run into each other more often, to be honest.” The second voice was unfamiliar and unmistakably female. She felt her stomach lurch, but she couldn’t hang up.</p><p>Cassian laughed casually and said, “No kidding. It’s not like Velaris is so big.”</p><p>”Shit. I think my friends are leaving me. I’ll see you next week though, right?” Her tone was clear, insinuating that she knew his answer.</p><p>”Absolutely. Is Wednesday after work ok? Around 5:30?”</p><p>”Ill be there! Bye, Cassian!” There was more rustling, as if they had come together in a hug, but she acknowledged that her imagination was likely torturing her.</p><p>“Sounds like a plan. See you then, Alis!”</p><p>Hearing her name is what finally had her ending the call and tossing her phone back onto the table. Her head was swimming. She was suddenly humiliated at her earlier text, wishing she had never sent it.</p><p>
  <em>You should feel better, honestly. He probably doesn’t resent you. He may not have given your actions a second thought at all. He’s moving on.</em>
</p><p>She turned over before she could be consumed by her thoughts, tucked her face into the side of Elain’s shoulder, and drifted off to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. This Time, Part 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter was a tough one for me to write. I got stuck a few times with the order of things (for this chapter and the following ones). Once I decided on that, the angst in this one was a little emotional for me to write, then edit. So, proceed with caution. That’s the official angst warning!</p><p>Trigger warning for short depiction of grief.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Birthday breakfast was really more of a birthday lunch the day after celebrating at Rita’s. Elain was sitting at the small island of Nesta’s kitchen, nursing a Gatorade and holding her head in her hands. Feyre was next to her scrolling through her phone. She was doing intel on their group’s collective social media updates, and so far, there were no embarrassing posts to deal with.</p><p>Nesta was mixing pancake batter, periodically folding in chocolate chips. Chocolate chip pancakes were reserved for Archeron birthdays or holidays, and they looked forward to sharing them when the occasions presented themselves. She poured some of the batter into her skillet, absently watching for bubbles as her indicator they were ready to flip. After making the initial flip, she walked to her refrigerator and produced a bottle of champagne with orange juice.</p><p>“Who wants to open the champagne for birthday mimosas?” She set both bottles on the island, with glasses, before turning her attention back to the pancakes. Elain’s only response was a long groan. Feyre giggled, pulled the champagne toward her, and started untwisting the cage over the cork.</p><p>“What’s the expression, El? Hair of the dog? It may make you feel better.” She stood away from the island to pop the cork. The last things they needed were physical injuries.</p><p>“I guess it can’t make me feel any worse, right?” She picked her head up from her hands. “I’m going to go grab my phone,” she said, with a cringe. She padded away to Nesta’s room, returning seconds later. She was scrolling through her phone as she walked and stopped short once she met the threshold of the kitchen, a horrified expression on her face.</p><p>”Why the fuck would I have deleted all of my texts last night?!” Her voice was more shrill than normal, and her sisters’ eyes grew at her use of “fuck” during pancake breakfast.</p><p>It was Feyre who dared answer her. “Umm… I have no idea. Maybe it was an accident?”</p><p>”That’s a pretty impressive accident.” Nesta realized her comment wasn’t helping as her sisters glared in her direction.</p><p>Elain continued. “I’ll tell you why. Because drunk me tried to hide something from sober me.” She paused for a second, blushing. “My evidence, in case you were wondering, is a text from Azriel that says: ‘*laugh emoji* Not cool. You had me worried there for a minute, Ellie. Goodnight. Hope you enjoyed your birthday.’” She glanced up at them in horror.</p><p>Nesta gave her a small smile. “Ellie, I’m sure it’s nothing. Even drunk you couldn’t have said anything too terrible. Maybe just talk to Az? It would be better than wondering.”</p><p>Elain sat down, her anxiety palpable in the small kitchen. She was quiet save for the nod she’d given her sister in acknowledgment of her advice. Nesta assumed maybe she could use a little more encouragement since she didn’t look wholly convinced.</p><p>“I really think it’ll be okay. Az is reasonable and has probably said his own fair share of drunken things he would care to take back.” She offered a short chuckle before sipping her mimosa. “You could call him, maybe, or—“</p><p>”Nes, are you really preaching to me about communication right now?”</p><p>Nesta blinked, taken aback by the irritation in Elain’s voice. “I wasn’t trying to preach, El. I just meant you didn’t have to worry and could trust Az to give you a chance to—“</p><p>”The same way you gave Cassian a chance to fix whatever the hell you’re holding against him? Why should Az be any more gracious than you’ve been?” Elain snapped. Her shoulders rounded a little at her own words, and Feyre’s eyes grew to the size of two steel blue saucers.</p><p>“Cauldron, Elain,” she said, looking from one sister to the other. Her back was straight, anticipating Nesta’s best weapons: her words.</p><p>Nesta took several seconds to reflect on their current situation. It was such an unexpected shift, where Elain was the one throwing insults, and Feyre, of all people, was defensive of Nesta. She wasn’t used to this type of interaction with Elain, and her words stung more than she was willing to admit. She finished her mimosa in one swift gulp and placed her dishes in the sink.</p><p>“Lucky for you, Azriel is nowhere near as disappointing, or shitty, as I am. I’m going to shower while you two finish breakfast. I’ll bring you home when you finish.” Her tone was neutral, dry even. By all measures, it was on the milder side for Nesta. She was halfway to the bathroom when she heard Elain’s wavering voice.</p><p>“Nes, wait. I’m sorry I didn’t mean—“</p><p>“Don’t ever apologize for saying what you mean, Elain,” she said, coldly, before walking the rest of her way. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough, wanting to leave the gaping wound that Elain had ripped open far behind her.</p><p>——</p><p>The following week went by fairly quickly. Elain and Nesta had made up within the day, Elain insisting that she had spoken from her own nerves rather than how she truly felt. She asked if Nesta wanted to talk about what happened with Cassian, but she declined, saying it wasn’t a big deal. She tasted the lie the second it left her mouth, but she shoved that down with everything else.</p><p>Her attention to the day of the week was higher than usual in anticipation of Wednesday. She was oddly preoccupied with a day that truly meant nothing to her, but it had haunted her since she overheard Cassian’s conversation with Alis. When the day finally arrived, she found herself ruminating over their conversation, letting her imagination run wild with the possibilities of how they were spending their time.</p><p>She told herself that she didn’t care beyond the fact that he would usually tell her all about these sorts of things. Gods, it bothered her to no end that she wasn’t his person anymore.</p><p>That Thursday, she found herself getting ready for dinner with Tomas. He had called her that Monday to see if she’d like to go out, and she didn’t have a reason not to. She may have even wanted to go. The downside, when the day arrived, was that it happened to be a particularly brutal work day. She was at home touching up and mentally preparing herself for a couple of hours of conversation. She would usually call Cassian for pep talks on days like this, but their non-friendship was a dealbreaker in that department. Not to mention, he likely wouldn’t have cared to give her a pep talk for this particular night. Gods, it bothered her to no end that he wasn’t her person anymore, either.</p><p>Dinner had been fine enough. Tomas looked handsome and seemed completely engaged with her the entire night. He was interested in her work, how her life had been since he’d last seen her, and her friends. He made brief mention of her mother and how he had been really sad to hear that she passed a few years ago. His condolences were sincere, but Nesta found herself oddly defensive at his mention of her. He hadn’t known her well, since their relationship hadn’t lasted long, and she felt like he couldn’t possibly imagine the void she left in their lives.</p><p>She resisted any response beyond a “thank you”, knowing that her reaction was likely due to her death anniversary coming up within the week. The rest of the night had gone well. The food was good, the conversation was fine, Tomas was fine. They had a fine time together. Everything was just fine.</p><p>Which is why, she assumed, that Tomas had tried to kiss her at the end of the night. He had driven her home, walked her to the door, and hugged her goodbye. As he pulled away, his cheek lingered next to hers, face turning toward her in slow motion. She cleared her throat abruptly and reached into her bag for her key.</p><p>“Well, thanks for tonight! I had a nice time.” She had the key in the lock, and she was already mentally selecting her sweatpants for the evening.</p><p>“Wait.” Thomas grabbed her elbow, turning her around. “Why are you being so weird? I thought we had a good time?”</p><p>”We did. I just said I had a nice time.”</p><p>”You seem to be rushing out pretty fast for a person having fun.” He paused for a few seconds to allow her to insist that she was having fun, or to invite him inside, she thought. She did neither.</p><p>He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Is it Cassian?”</p><p>She knew she was balking at him, but she didn’t have it in her to control it.</p><p>“Are you kidding me? Just because I’m ending the night without kissing you or asking you to come inside and fuck me, there has to be a man responsible? Could it be because this night has taken us as far as it was ever going to?” She rolled her eyes, turned the key, and walked inside. “Goodnight, Tomas,” she said, as she shut the door in his face.</p><p>She kicked her shoes off in her entryway and tossed her purse onto the small table next to her door. She removed her dress over her head as she walked purposefully to her bedroom and ripped her sweatpants out of the too-full drawer. She pulled on an extra large t-shirt and went to the kitchen to pour herself some red wine. She settled onto her couch, put on some mindless television, and tried to relax.</p><p>She reflected over the night’s events. She was honest when she told Tomas that they had a fine time. She had enjoyed herself tonight, and she started to feel a twinge of guilt for snapping at him in her doorway. He hadn’t done anything wrong before asking that question, and if she was honest with herself, she knew why it bothered her so much. It’s not that he wasn’t handsome, that he was unkind, or that he was disrespectful. It wasn’t even that he had misjudged and asked the wrong question. The truth hammered through her brain like an ambush, and she was utterly incapable of stopping it.</p><p>
  <em>He’s not Cassian.</em>
</p><p>——</p><p>Nesta watched several episodes of a home renovation show as she worked through her bottle of wine. She decided that it was the perfect type of show to watch on nights like tonight, where she was knee-deep in her thoughts. Her earlier revelation had sunken its claws into her brain, and she was having trouble thinking of anything else. She wasn’t sure at what point she had stopped fighting it— either glass 2 or glass 3. She finally allowed herself to take a critical look at all these pent up emotions, and noteworthy memories of Cassian started to play through her mind like a montage.</p><p></p><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>She is sitting in the passenger seat of an older, black pick-up truck. Cassian is driving, and they have the windows down to feel the cool fall breeze. They’re going for a leisurely drive because he got his license just yesterday, and he loves the freedom it’s given him. He doesn’t have to be a slave to his home life or his abusive father anymore. He can just drive. She makes a joke, and he’s laughing now. His mid-length waves are dancing around his face, and he turns to look at her for mere seconds before looking back at the road.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><p>She sipped her wine thoughtfully, noting the memory as the first time he ever took her breath with how beautiful his joy could be. She remembered how her chest had burst with pride at being able to make him laugh and smile like that, despite his pain. She noted now what she was too scared to admit then: there was little she wouldn’t do to protect his happiness.</p><p></p><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>It’s junior prom, and she’s posted against the wall with a bottle of water. Her date is a total jerk, and she’s hoping that maybe he’ll just leave. His departure would be better than pretending to enjoy herself anymore. She sees Cassian approaching her from her left. He looks so much more mature in his tux, half of his waves tied back in a knot at the back of his head.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“Hey, Archie. Where’s your date?”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>She chuckles softly. “I don’t know. But I think I like it that way. He’s kind of the worst.”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>Cassian frowns. “Well, he’s an idiot, then. Dance with me?” He extends his hand to her, palm up, and offers her a half-smile. He looks almost nervous, and her heart swells with affection for him.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“Always. You’re my favorite person here.”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><p>She wiped the tears from her face, not sure of when she started crying. The feeling now so vivid; her favorite person. The truth of that statement refused to be downplayed. She shook her head, realizing it to be as accurate as ever.</p><p></p><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>It’s her sophomore year of college, and her friends are at a local bar celebrating the end of finals. She hasn’t been able to see them nearly as often this semester, and she’s enjoying their time together. At a certain point, a guy she doesn’t know gets awfully too comfortable with her, and he’s touching her all over. She tries to walk away, and he grips her arm tightly as she fights against him. He’s so much stronger than she is, but her brain can only focus on getting away from him. Just before the panic sets in, she sees two familiar figures approaching from the side. Faster than she can note what is really happening, Azriel is separating the guy’s hand from Nesta’s arm and is shoving him too easily away from her. She’s immediately wrapped in a tight hug, her face tucked tightly into Cassian’s chest. She inhales his scent as she steadies her breath, and she clutches the back of his shirt like a lifeline. She isn’t truly crying, but tears are starting to pool in her eyes from the sheer relief of being safe with him. He pulls back only as much as he needs to cup her face with his hands. His brow is deeply furrowed as he scans her face in that knowing way of his, and his lips form a tight line. He is painfully concerned. He is furious. He is fighting all of those things to remain even for her.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“Are you okay? Nes, please. Talk to me. Tell me you’re okay.”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>”I’m okay.” Her response is quiet, robotic.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“He’s gone. Azriel took care of it.”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>She was yearning for a sense of normalcy, the intensity of his care becoming too much. She resorts to humor as she usually does.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“I’m surprised. It’s usually you who runs straight to the front lines. Forever the hero.” She cracks a small smile, hoping it’ll comfort him.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>He’s still holding her face in his large hands. He drops his gaze briefly as he shakes his head, and when he looks back at her face, he’s wearing an ironic sort of smile.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“All I could see was you.”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><p>The memory knocked the breath out of her, having been so long since she had thought about it. She understood his meaning then, but it hit her with a renewed vigor now. She superseded his basic instincts to protect, eliminate the threat. When it came to her, he trusted no one else and had to personally ensure she was okay. He would throw himself between her and anyone or anything that threatened her, and he would do it happily. Her heart clenched as she thought about how no one else could have made her feel comfortable or calmed her under those circumstances. Another tear rolled down her cheek at how careless she had been with his heart and how much she had taken him for granted. At how much she had always lied to herself. Because she was feeling particularly masochistic, she entertained one last memory, her tears pouring.</p><p></p><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>Her mother is terminally ill, and the doctors believe she will leave them any day now. It’s 3 AM, and her phone rings. Her father tells her she’s gone, and she holds herself together until she hangs up the phone. She is panicking; can’t catch her breath. Her father is calling Elain and Feyre, and they are supposed to meet at his house when they can get themselves ready. She doesn’t know how she will face this. She can’t do it. She can’t do it. She Can’t. Do. It.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>Her fingers work automatically, pressing Cassian’s contact and putting him on speaker phone. Holding it to her face seems too taxing, and her tears will smear all over the screen. He answers in two rings, his voice gravelly with sleep.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>”Nes?”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>Her only answer is a choked sob, followed by several attempts at catching her breath.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“Nesta. I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me.”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>She complies, finally mastering herself enough to say, “Momma” through her sobs.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>“Nesta. Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I’m in the truck now. Please stay with me.”</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>Everything else is a blur except for hearing him come through her door. He opens her bedroom door swiftly, obviously in a hurry to get to her. He leaves the bedroom light off, allowing the hallway lighting to be his guide to her. His weight is shifting the mattress next to her, and he’s leaning against the headboard. He easily pulls her into his lap, and she’s tucking her face into his neck as she cries. She curls her legs into herself, and he holds her for what feels like seconds and years. She feels something wet soaking into the shoulder of her t-shirt and realizes his tears are falling as well.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><blockquote class="npf_indented">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <em>He drives her to her father’s once she’s ready, holding her hand the entire way. He never leaves her side the days following, through arrangements, the ceremony, and family visitations. He makes sure she eats on somewhat of a schedule because time is all an illusion to her. He sleeps on her couch every night for the couple of weeks following, knowing bedtime is the hardest time for her, and she won’t want to be alone. She is so touched by his dedication, and she isn’t sure she could do this life without him.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</blockquote><p>She cried for a long time, only recovering when she felt like she had nothing left to give. She was hardly surprised at the landslide of emotions tackling her considering she had been repressing them for the entirety of their friendship. It was now apparent to her what should have always been apparent: she was in love with Cassian.</p><p>She was in love with him, but she had been myopic for so long that she may have finally exhausted his love for her.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>By the way, this is a definitive turning point toward resolution, so it WILL get better!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. This Time, Part 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for grief related to the loss of a parent and some strong language.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Around 11:00 PM, Nesta decided she couldn’t be alone with her thoughts anymore. She was ruminating on similar memories and effectively raking herself over the coals. Although she knew any one of her friends would be there for her no matter the time of day, she picked up her phone to call the one she knew would most likely be awake at this hour.</p><p>“Hello?” Azriel’s raspy voice came through the phone.</p><p>“Were you asleep?! Since when do you go to bed early?” Her surprise was obvious by her tone. <em>What the hell? He’s never in bed before midnight.</em></p><p>“Nes. Always a pleasure.” Azriel breathed a chuckle into the phone. “I usually wouldn’t be. I’m.. umm.. at a friend’s house tonight.”</p><p>Nesta gasped and dropped her voice. “Oh my gods. Az, were you on a date?! Am I interrupting?” She clapped her free hand over her forehead. “I’m the worst. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Another chuckle from Azriel. “You don’t have to whisper, you know. She can’t hear you. You’re not interrupting anything. I was asleep when you called, but I’m out on the couch now. What’s up?”</p><p>”If you were asleep, then that counts as interrupting! Are you sure?”</p><p>”Yes. Just, maybe the short version?” His tone was tentative, almost as if he felt guilty asking her to keep it concise at 11 PM. No one truly deserved Azriel as their friend.</p><p>“I can do that. So, here it is. I’ll save you the long, tedious trip through my brain.” She paused for half a second to take a breath. “I’m in love with Cassian.” She let out a quiet groan for effect.</p><p>”Mhmm…” The lilting of his voice implied that he was waiting for something like the punchline of a joke; the unknown part of her statement.</p><p>Her breath caught. “I kind of expected more of a reaction.”</p><p>”Did you? I thought there was more to it.” He seemed entirely neutral in that grating way of his.</p><p>”How did you know?!” She asked, incredulously.</p><p>”You told me.”</p><p>“Mm.. I don’t think so. When?” Now she was actually confused. Did she make some kind of drunken confession at Rita’s? She would remember having this revelation before now.</p><p>“At brunch. When we were driving home.”</p><p>”What are you talking about?!” Her voice was definitely higher pitched than it had been previously. She was anxious to hear his response, thinking he had surely dreamed this.</p><p>”Nesta. We were in my car, backing out of the parking lot. You asked me, ‘Why couldn’t we be the ones to fall in love?’ Or something along those lines. I thought that you were using some cryptic way of telling me because it implied two parties. Why do you think I hit the brakes so hard?” He seemed impatient, as if he was telling her the most obvious thing in the world.</p><p>“I thought maybe the question weirded you out! I didn’t even realize what I said, to be honest. How the actual fuck do you notice tiny things like that?” She didn’t wait on his response. He would know it was rhetorical. “Now my problem is this: I think he’s dating someone, so I’ve lost my chance.” She briefly told him what she had overheard the night of Elain’s birthday, her voice starting to crack toward the end.</p><p>”Hm. He hasn’t said anything to me about that, but I could see why he would wait being that you and I are close. But honestly, I don’t know that you could ever lose your chance with Cassian, Nes.”</p><p>She didn’t have anything to say to that. She simply sat there, playing with the corner of her throw blanket and hoping he would continue. He seemed to sense her discomfort and started talking again.</p><p>“I think you’ll regret it if you don’t talk to him. But, if I can offer my opinion, maybe wait a little while so that you know you’re absolutely sure this is what you want. I don’t know how he would handle it if you decided it’s not what you want.”</p><p>She felt herself prickle with defensiveness. “I wouldn’t do that to him, Az. Of course I’m sure. It only took me an eternity to figure this shit out.”</p><p>Azriel responded in a soothing tone he so often used with her. “I know. But remember, you’re not the one he talks to about <em>you</em>. I’m just looking out for my brother. Maybe let it marinate, yeah?”</p><p>She knew his intentions were pure, and she couldn’t really blame him for being protective. Before she could respond, she heard a feminine voice in the background ask: “Az, everything okay?”</p><p>She heard him pull the phone away from his face to answer. “Oh, yeah. All good. It’s Nesta.”</p><p>Delayed by her scattered brain and the copious amount of wine, the identity of the voice finally hit her full force.</p><p>”IS THAT ELAIN?!” She sat up straighter as if it would allow her to hear them more readily.</p><p>She heard Azriel laugh, followed by a shuffling on the other end.</p><p>“Hello? Nesta? Everything okay?” Nesta could hear the genuine concern in her voice.</p><p>“Hey, El. Everything’s fine! Sorry to crash your date. It seems we have quite a bit to talk about. Very soon.”</p><p>It took Elain a couple of seconds to respond, and Nesta could hear the smile in her voice. “Yeah. I think we do. Someone told me I should just talk to him. Turns out that they were right.” She paused, waiting for an “I told you so” from Nesta. She didn’t have the energy. “You know you can talk to me about Cassian, too, right?”</p><p>Nesta shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’ve been leaning on Az since our fight, and I honestly haven’t had the energy to bring it up beyond that. But I do want to talk to you. And Feyre. It’s just been…hard.”</p><p>“I can imagine. It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass. It’s like the end of an era or something. Just know that we’re here.” Her voice was soft, laced with worry and a desire to help her older sister.</p><p>”Maybe for now,” Nesta teased, “but you may not have much time to chat these days.”</p><p>She knew she was blatantly deflecting, but El’s words had caused tears to prick her eyes yet again. <em>It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass.</em> She realized how true it was, and what upset her the most was that she knew she didn’t want to know a time without Cassian.</p><p>The call wrapped up with more gentle teasing between the sisters, and eventually, embarrassing Azriel a bit over speakerphone. She told them she loved them and promised to keep them updated on how she was feeling. Her heart felt lighter once she finally ended the call, thanks to the laughter they managed to pull from her.</p><p>——</p><p>Christine Archeron’s death anniversary fell on a Tuesday that year, and Nesta awoke with a similar irritation as last year— death anniversaries should never fall on weekdays. She went through the familiar motions as any other morning, headed to work, and concentrated on her various tasks she was expected to juggle at any given time. As appearances went, it looked like any other ordinary day to those around her, so the extra heaviness remained hers alone to carry.</p><p>On her lunch break, she got a chance to pull her phone to check her messages and mindlessly scroll through social media. She had been focused on scrolling for so long that her phone took her by surprise when it vibrated in her hand. She tapped the notification by reflex and found herself studying the sender’s name as if it was some sort of mistake.</p><p>Cassian: <b>Thinking about you today. I know it’s a rough one. Keep your head up. Christine would have it no other way</b> ❤️</p><p>Nesta read the text several times in a row; just to make sure it was real. It had been so long since he’d contacted her intentionally, and it made her happy that he still thought to reach out today. It simultaneously made her a little sad; however, because it was yet another reminder of what she’d lost in him. That was an issue to deal with later.</p><p>Nesta: <strike><b>Of course you are, because you’re the perfect human, and I don’t deserve you. </b></strike><b>Thanks, Cass 💕 Means the world to me to hear from you. Mom really loved you, and I know she would appreciate you looking out for us.</b></p><p>She hesitated over the send button for several seconds before deciding to go through with it. It felt so weird to intentionally script any type of message to him being that they had spent most of their relationship entirely uncensored. Everything about it felt wrong— she couldn’t act natural with him because it wasn’t appropriate anymore, yet she didn’t feel right having to draft and redraft their communication. It was all so fucked, and she was tired of this odd limbo they stayed in.</p><p>She reflected on her conversation with Azriel and Elain on the night she had unintentionally crashed their date. She knew that they both held strong points about her situation and wouldn’t advise her to try to repair things if they knew it was a lost cause. She acknowledged that Azriel, specifically, knew more than he was at liberty to tell her. That being the case, she decided that was evidence in favor of hashing things out with Cassian. It wasn’t long before she was lost in her own thoughts, her food entirely forgotten.</p><p>
  <em>I’ve spent my entire life trying to ensure I didn’t need anyone. I never wanted to depend heavily on another person in a way that I couldn’t manage on my own. But that’s not really the case anyway, right? I’ve managed fine these few weeks, but that’s the thing. I’ve managed. Why do I try to insist that’s enough for me?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But what if the door is closed? What if this was Cassian’s final push, and he’s gone? I don’t know Alis, and she could be wonderful. She probably appreciates the shit out of him and saw immediately that he’s not the average person. She probably knows how special he is. She probably beams anytime he enters a room and tries to take care of his heart in any way she can. She’s probably fucking <b>delightful</b>.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But does that really compete with history? I guess if that history is filled with turmoil, it could. She’ll never know the Cassian that was a freshman in high school— braces and curly hair, still a head taller than most of the other boys in class. She won’t remember how he hit his second growth spurt the summer after sophomore year, where he started to fill out and caught the attention of any girl with a pulse. She doesn’t know what it’s like when he’s truly angry with his dad and the world. She doesn’t know the full range of his eclectic music tastes or the guilty pleasures he sings depending on his mood. She didn’t do the leg work to reconcile the tough, intimidating exterior when he gets upset with the gentle soul beneath. There’s no way she knows when his humor and his laughter are distractions from his pain rather than when they’re genuine. She can’t love him like I do. Im-fucking-possible.</em>
</p><p>She was pulled abruptly out of her head, and incredible jealousy, by her alarm. It was time to go back to work and finish out the day, and she hoped it passed as quickly as possible. She silently chastised herself for piling this emotional time bomb on today of all days as she threw away her lunch and walked out of the break room.</p><p>
  <em>So much for leaving this issue for later.</em>
</p><p>She resolved to put all of these thoughts back into their little box until she had the emotional energy to open the lid once again. Whenever the hell that would be.</p><p>——</p><p>The rest of the day zoomed by at a blissful pace, thank the gods. In fact, when Nesta glanced at the clock, she realized it was several minutes after 5:00 PM. She clocked out, grabbed her things, and climbed into her car. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to make the drive out to the cemetery. She wasn’t sure what time Elain had been able to go by, but Nesta had agreed to meet Feyre at 5:30 to pay their respects. It was becoming a standing tradition, where they would make their short visit whenever they could during the day and follow with dinner together as a family.</p><p>She made it with a few minutes to spare, so she took that time to sit with her mom one-on-one. She gave her a brief update on her life, told her how much she loved and missed her, and gently brushed any leaves or grass clippings off of her headstone. There were fresh flowers in her vase, something she noted each year on her death anniversary. Any other time of year, they kept seasonally appropriate faux flowers to make sure her site was properly decorated. She made a mental note to offer to contribute to the fresh arrangement in the years following when she saw her family at dinner. They were always taken care of before she made it out to the cemetery, and she didn’t want to risk forgetting for the next year. She leaned into the arrangement, taking in the various floral scents emanating from the blooms in the bouquet. There was a myriad of vivid colors, wildflowers throughout, and Nesta loved how true to her mother’s spirit they were.</p><p>She turned when she heard car doors and saw Feyre approaching with Rhysand. She stood, extending an arm out to her baby sister, who accepted it readily and rested her head on her shoulder. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Rhysand stood nearby, resting his hand on Feyre’s opposite shoulder. They stood together for several minutes until Nesta excused herself to allow Feyre some time alone with their mom as well.</p><p>She drove to her father’s house where she found Elain already setting the table for dinner. They worked together quietly, making sure they had plenty of place settings for everyone. Azriel offered his help to carry various dishes of food to the dining table and took his seat next to Elain once it was all settled. Almost as if on cue, Feyre and Rhysand walked into the house and took their seats as well. The dinner started off quiet considering the somber mood, but Feyre was the first to break the tension when she started to tell stories from their childhood. In a matter of moments, their home was filled with animated story telling and loud bouts of laughter, and Nesta couldn’t think of a better way to honor her mom’s love of life.</p><p>As everyone finished up, she suddenly remembered her mental note from earlier. She waited for a natural lull in conversation, then commented softly, “Mom’s flowers were beautiful, you guys. You did an amazing job.”</p><p>”They were really perfect. They couldn’t have been more ‘Christine’ if you tried,” Feyre remarked.</p><p>“Elain, Dad. I’m not sure which of you took care of them this year, but would you let me take care of next time? I haven’t contributed since she passed, and I’d really like to.”</p><p>Mr. Archeron softly shook his head back and forth, communicating to Nesta that it hadn’t been him. Nesta adjusted her gaze to Elain who looked just as confused.</p><p>“Oh. Nes, I assumed it was one of you. I didn’t… I didn’t order them. I wished I had.” She looked down at her hands, and Azriel placed a supportive arm across the back of her chair.</p><p>“Okay… so who did?” She glanced around the table from person to person, but no one took any credit. It was Rhys who spoke up first, clearing his throat to master his voice.</p><p>“You don’t know?”</p><p>”Obviously.” She looked to Feyre for support. <em>What the hell is that supposed to mean?</em> Feyre said nothing, watching Rhysand talk with rapt attention.</p><p>When he spoke again, it was cautious, as if his words may startle her. “Nesta. The flowers are from Cassian. He’s done them every year since Mrs. Christine died.”</p><p>She was suddenly short of breath. Everyone’s attention snapped to Rhys, including her father’s. Her sisters and Azriel were looking at Rhysand with stunned expressions, their eyes flicking to her face occasionally.</p><p>“What? How could you know— why would you know, when we don’t? What the fuck is going on?” She was falling over her own words, struggling to form any cohesive thought.</p><p>”I’m so sorry,” Rhysand glanced around the room for the first time, realizing he had everyone’s attention. “The only reason I knew was because he asked me to make sure they made it from the flower shop to her gravesite the year he had knee surgery. He asked me to keep it to myself then, but I figured by now he would have said something to at least one other person.” He looked down into his plate, various emotions playing over his handsome face. Feyre leaned over to comfort him, knowing he was likely embarrassed to be the reason the air had changed so dramatically.</p><p>Nesta’s head was swimming, emotions roiling from a million different directions. She knew anger was cheap and unfair, but she pulled on that tether as hard as she could to make sure she could navigate everything she was processing. She was on her feet suddenly, pushing her chair away from the table and walking toward her keys.</p><p>“I have to go.” She couldn’t be in here anymore. The room was too small, the walls were too close. Too many people. She picked up the pace, flinging the door open and shutting it hard behind her. She was down the porch steps when she heard the door open again. Azriel’s voice followed her.</p><p>”Nesta. Where are you going? Nesta, stop!” He had jogged lightly to catch up with her, and he tugged her gently by the wrist to stop her. She spun on him quickly, eyes flaring and brimming with tears.</p><p>“Anywhere but here! What the fuck was that, Az?”</p><p>He said nothing; looked down at his own feet as he shook his head.</p><p>“Cassian has some fucking nerve, you know that? Why is he insisting upon himself?” Her voice was lowered and had taken on an almost eerie quality; the calm before the proverbial storm.</p><p>“Nes, I don’t think he meant to upset you. It sounds like it’s something he’s made somewhat of a tradition. Maybe he just wanted to be sure and see it through.”</p><p>”He doesn’t get to do that anymore, Azriel. He doesn’t get to butt-dial me while he makes date plans with some girl, then turn around and send flowers to my dead mother. What am I supposed to think about that? And how would that make his girlfriend feel?” Azriel pulled her into a hug at that, resting his chin on top of her head. He didn’t answer her. There was nothing to say.</p><p>She pulled away from him, gripping her keys, and walked toward her car. “I’m out. Tell them I love them, and I’ll call tomorrow.” She nodded her chin toward the house, climbed into her car, and backed out of the driveway.</p><p>——</p><p>She wasn’t sure how long she’d driven before she found herself in his driveway. She knew it hadn’t been very long considering the sun was still clinging to the end of the day. She honestly didn’t remember making the conscious decision to come here, likely fueled by anger and muscle memory more than anything else. She was still so frustrated at her situation, her emotions spilling over and refusing to be put into that stupid fucking box anymore. The worst part was that, as mad as she was with him, she so badly wanted to see him. She wished the circumstances were less complicated so that she could knock, ask for a hug and some tea, and lay on his couch. They were a hell of a long way from those people now.</p><p>She loosed a breath, puffing her cheeks with air and exhaling slowly. Just before she peeled her head from the headrest to get out, his front door opened. He opened it most of the way, then leaned against the door jamb on his shoulder. He had his hands in the pockets of his sweats and one of his ankles crossed casually over the other. For a moment, she only looked at him, unable to move or offer any type of acknowledgement. She took in the charcoal henley he was wearing, unbuttoned save for the very last one. The small flap of the opening leaned to the side, revealing the base of his neck and the beginning of his tattoos. He looked so very <em>Cassian</em>, casual and laid-back, that she struggled to keep her emotions level at the mere sight of him. His hair was down, looking like he had just run his fingers through it with its deep part and how it fell haphazardly around his face. He was wearing his reading glasses, she noticed, the thick frames highlighting the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the wide set of his jaw. He gave her a soft smile, and cocked his head to the side and back in invitation. She could almost hear him gently telling her to “get in here”.</p><p>
  <em>Too late to turn back now.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. This Time, Part 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for language.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>She loosed a breath, puffing her cheeks with air and exhaling slowly. Just before she peeled her head from the headrest to get out, his front door opened. He opened it most of the way, then leaned against the door jamb on his shoulder. He had his hands in the pockets of his sweats and one of his ankles crossed casually over the other. For a moment, she only looked at him, unable to move or offer any type of acknowledgement. She took in the charcoal Henley he was wearing, unbuttoned save for the last one. The small flap of the opening leaned to the side, revealing the base of his neck and the beginning of his tattoos. He looked so very Cassian, casual and laid-back, that she struggled to keep her emotions level at the mere sight of him. His hair was down, looking like he had just run his fingers through it with its deep part and how it fell haphazardly around his face. He was wearing his reading glasses, she noticed, the thick frames highlighting the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the wide set of his jaw. He gave her a soft smile, and cocked his head to the side and back in invitation. She could almost here him tell her to “get in here”.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Too late to turn back now.</em>
</p><p>——</p><p>She got out of the car and travelled up the short walkway to his door. He moved to stand to the side, ushering her into the entryway without a word. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. His voice was soft when he spoke.</p><p>“I saw you from the window when you pulled up. Hope I didn’t rush you.”</p><p>“Hmm. No. I wasn’t 100% sure I was going to knock anyway, so it’s probably best that you went out.” He tensed at her words. She offered a small smile, feeling oddly compelled to comfort him.</p><p>
  <em>The whole reason you’re here is because you’re mad, Nesta. Focus.</em>
</p><p>”Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Whiskey?” He huffed a small laugh at his last suggestion.</p><p>”Tea would be great, actually. I’ll come sit at the island,” she replied.</p><p>He walked past her, hands still firmly in his pockets. She followed him to the kitchen, situated herself on a barstool, and watched him prepare the things he needed. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, until the tension became a little too much.</p><p>“Have you decided if you’re going to tell me why you’re here?” His eyes were focused on what he was doing; never looking up at her as he spoke.</p><p>“Yeah. I think we have some things to talk about.” She watched his shoulders raise slightly before he put the kettle on the stove and turned around.</p><p>“Like?” He leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms across his chest.</p><p>”Us. Whatever <em>we</em> are, anymore. And boundaries.” She couldn’t look at him, so she opted to look down at her hands as she picked her cuticles.</p><p>He was quiet for a moment, and when she finally looked at him, the look on his face gave her pause. His expression was severe, his jaw tense and eyes narrowed.</p><p>“I think you made it perfectly clear what we are not, Nesta. If you came here to twist the knife, I’d like to opt out of this conversation.” He turned his back to her, busying himself by looking for the right mugs to pull from the cabinet.</p><p>“That’s not why I came!” she snapped. She lowered her face into her hands, willing herself to take deep breaths and stay calm. “I just… I know what we’re not. I do. But it’s hard to reconcile with how you act sometimes.”</p><p>”Which is?” His voice was strained, his patience waning.</p><p>“Like nothing has changed. Elain’s birthday— by the bathroom. The parking lot. Texting me today, and on top of th—“ He cut her off, much to her frustration, but she restrained her temper. This conversation was delicate enough, but she couldn’t keep from narrowing her gaze in his direction.</p><p>”I didn’t want this. <em>You</em> did,” he sneered. “Have you considered that it’ll take time for me to figure this shit out?” He pulled his chosen mugs out roughly, held them to his chest, and used his other hand to shut the cabinet door firmly. His voice was rough and slightly raised. Since it seemed he was determined to escalate anyway, she decided to jump ahead.</p><p>“So how is Alis then? Does she know how much time you need to ‘figure shit out’ with me?” she taunted coldly.</p><p>Apparently, the timing of her question couldn’t have been worse. Cassian’s entire body went taut as he was shifting the mugs to set them both down on the counter. He put them down with such force that it startled her, even though she was staring directly at him.</p><p>“What the fuck does it matter to you, Nesta? Huh?!” The mug in his right hand had broken on impact, but he didn’t seem to noticed as he whirled around. “She has nothing to do with our little shit show, so leave her the fuck out of it,“ he spat. His infamous temper was flaring now, and she knew he wouldn’t be backing down. He turned to see the broken mug, muttering a low “Fuck” and proceeded to sweep the broken pieces into his hands to throw away.</p><p>She blinked a couple of times, caught off guard by him immediately jumping to Alis’ defense. It’s not that she didn’t expect any loyalty at all, but the pain that followed is what threw her.</p><p>“Clearly, talking to you was a bad idea. I was hoping we could have an adult conversation!” she yelled.</p><p>He lowered his voice a fraction, but the venom in his tone remained. “Let me ask you something. How many godsdamned times do I have to take your bullshit on the chin before my reactions are justified? Why do you get to cling to your anger, make me the bad guy, and keep coming back for more? Your hands aren’t as clean as you’d like to think, sweetheart. Don’t fucking do this with me.”</p><p>She stood at that, grabbed her keys, and walked toward the door. She heard him laugh sarcastically from where he stood, and she was fully prepared to ignore him until he opened his mouth.</p><p>“There she is, walking away again. At least your predictability is comforting.”</p><p>She stilled, her entire body tensing. She turned around so quickly, launching herself toward him before she ever gave herself a chance to think better of it.</p><p>“You arrogant, self-righteous, son of a bitch!” She was pushing at his chest, and the fact that he barely moved at all had her seeing red. She started slapping at his chest between pushes and even went as far as to brace her hands on his chest, lunge, and use all of her force to move him backward. Her feet only slid back on the floor, while he lost no ground. “You giant, pretentious, pain in the—“</p><p>He gripped her wrists against his chest, transferred them to one hand, and used his other hand to cup her jaw. His grip was surprisingly gentle compared to the anger that flared in his eyes. She blew a breath through her bottom lip to get the stray hair out of her face and glared right back at him.</p><p>“Enough of all that.” He paused, studying her face before he continued. “Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?” His voice was low, and although she knew he was being quite literal, she couldn’t fight the warmth that pooled within her at his words.</p><p>She swallowed heavily and closed her eyes before saying, “I have an idea.”</p><p>He squeezed her wrists gently then, almost as if he was considering if it was safe to let them go. She opened her eyes at that and was surprised to find that she had leaned into him while her eyes were closed. Their noses were almost brushing, and as much as she longed to close the distance between them, she remembered her reasons for being here. She fixed her gaze on his eyes, remarking how much more prominent the gold flecks became when he was mad. When he met her stare, they softened slightly before flicking down to her mouth. He didn’t try to conceal it and instead opted to pull his hand back just enough to run his thumb over her bottom lip. He repeated the action across her Cupid’s bow before moving to cup her cheek.</p><p>The kettle’s whistle caused both of them to jump back slightly, disoriented by the fact that the world had indeed continued during those moments. He dropped her wrists from his chest, and a pained expression passed across her features.</p><p>“You’re the one that asked for tea, sweetheart,” he said, as he lowered his hand and smirked at her. “Plus, we have some talking to do, remember?” He touched her palm with his index finger to prompt her to follow him back into the kitchen. She followed and sat back in her previous spot at the island, as he passed the mug to her. He decided against getting another mug out for himself and leaned his hip on the corner of the island.</p><p>Nesta didn’t even know where to start. There were so many ways she could approach this, all leading to the same point, but she felt like that point needed context. Nothing about the time passed seemed linear to her, and she was struggling with how to best present herself. She stared down into her mug, bobbing her tea bag through the water to busy her hands.</p><p>“So, what is all this about Alis? How do you know about her?” he asked, tone matter of fact. She wasn’t sure if he’d opted to speak first out of impatience or if he was bailing her out as usual, but either way, she was grateful for a starting point.</p><p>A crease formed between her brows as she placed her tea bag on a napkin, her eyes never leaving the mug as she spoke. “The night of Elain’s birthday, at Rita’s. I sent you a text, and somehow you pocket dialed me a little while later. I heard your conversation. Maybe I should have hung the phone up sooner, because it obviously wasn’t intended for me, but it all happened really fast. I heard you making plans to meet up later that week, and then I hung up.”</p><p>”Ah. I see.”</p><p>”Not that it should matter how I know. The fact remains that you seemed awfully interested in talking to me that night, and not even a couple hours later, asking her out. It’s insulting. To both of us.”</p><p>He smirked at that, and she had to resist the urge to throttle him for it. “Is that jealousy, Nes? It’s not becoming.” Her eyes snapped up to his at his comment; boldly throwing her own words at her from that night at Rita’s. Just like that, she was seeing red all over again.</p><p>“You’re such a bastard, Cassian. Even if it was, it doesn’t change the point. You can’t date her and send sentimental texts to me on my mother’s death anniversary, it’s not fair! How do you think that makes me feel?!” She felt tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, and she quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.</p><p>He leaned forward onto his forearms, meeting her at eye level. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I won’t pretend I’m an expert at reading your emotions because I’ve been very wrong before. How do you feel?”</p><p>”It really doesn’t matter. It was never right for me to come here and try to force a conversation with someone else’s… whatever you two are. It’s inappropriate.” Just like that, her mind was changed. She didn’t have it in her to do this, and she wanted to hold it together long enough to leave with a little dignity. Her tears betrayed her by streaming down her face, and she whisked them away quickly with her hands.</p><p>He grasped one of her hands with both of his, wiping the tears from it and holding it between his palms. His fingers skimmed over her wrist, and she couldn’t help but look at him. He looked pained, an earnesty in his eyes that she couldn’t ignore.</p><p>“Nesta, I’m not dating Alis. I’m not dating anyone, for that matter. Alis is a friend of mine who helps me out from time to time. She’s a florist at Spring Floral Cart, and we’ve worked together over the years for different things.”</p><p>It took her a moment to process his words before realization dawned on her. A florist. She was a florist, and he had flowers sent to her mother’s grave. Then what had she overheard? Thinking back on it, they never mentioned dinner, drinks, anything. Had she invented this whole thing?</p><p>“She did my mother’s flowers.” Not a question.</p><p>His eyes widened at her words. “How do you know about Christine’s flowers?” His voice was so quiet that it was almost a whisper.</p><p>“Rhys. He mentioned it at dinner—“</p><p>”Fuck, Rhys.” He dropped his head forward in frustration.</p><p>”Let me finish. He wasn’t trying to out you specifically, he just assumed at least one of us knew. Once he realized we didn’t, he couldn’t exactly lie or pretend he didn’t know either. It was obvious that he did.” She paused, but once she realized he wasn’t going to respond, she used her free hand to raise his face back up to look at her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that? Why hide it? I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you would do that for her.” Her voice was just as quiet now, the air thick with emotion all around them.</p><p>Here she was, doing another 180 and deciding she needed to stay. She was getting whiplash from the extremes she was experiencing, all rapid fire. She stood, taking her hand from him, and circled the island to stand next to him. She pulled his bicep to encourage him to stand to his full height and look at her. He stood, but he kept his eyes locked on the countertop as he answered her.</p><p>“I never wanted it to seem like I had certain motives. I don’t know. I did it for her; not any recognition, not for praise. I knew how much she loved having fresh flowers around the house, and I didn’t want her to never have them again.” He was playing with the corner of her napkin, and she grasped his hand as he had done with hers just minutes ago. She had tears in her eyes yet again, but she did nothing to keep them hidden now. It seemed so stupid and pointless. “I think I knew deep down how I felt about you, and I never wanted you to think I was trying to win your favor in some cheap way; like I was using your mom as a way to get you to fall for me. It makes me sick to even say that out loud. I felt like if you knew, you would question my motives once you learned how I felt. And I think to some degree, I was scared I would discount your feelings for me even if they were returned… like they were just the product of some grand gesture during a rough time. Chalk it up to my daddy issues, I guess.” He chuckled softly before lifting his eyes to hers. He noted her tears, and his brows immediately came together in concern.</p><p>“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, Archie. I’m okay. We’re okay.” He held her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with his thumbs. She crumpled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his sternum. He brought his arms around her and rested his hands on her lower back. She was quiet for several minutes before she mastered herself enough to speak.</p><p>”<em>Gods</em>, you couldn’t be more wrong, Cass.”</p><p>She leaned back to look at him. He cocked his head in confusion, willing her to continue. “I’m not okay. <em>We’re</em> not okay. Not like this. But knowing this doesn’t discount anything I feel for you. It doesn’t make me question your intentions. You forget that I know your heart and your character, and I know this is just who you are. And I was in love with you before I knew any of this, anyway. I was in love with you weeks ago when I was too scared to admit it to myself.”</p><p>She gripped his shirt at his shoulders as she forced herself to voice all these terrifying things she’d felt. After all they had been through together, he deserved to hear all of it from her. She needed him to know he was loved, even if she’d exhausted his good favor. She needed him to know he hadn’t misread her; that he hadn’t thrown his love into some void all these years.</p><p>“I loved you before she passed; loved you years before, even. I’ve loved you as far back as I can remember.”</p><p>Cassian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as she spoke. He removed his glasses as he lowered his brow to hers and brought one of his hands up to cup the side of her neck. His thumb rubbed her jawbone gently.</p><p>”Nesta, I—“</p><p>”Wait. If I don’t finish, I’ll lose my nerve. Shit, I’m so terrible at this.” She huffed a small laugh, and he joined her, still with his eyes closed. “I think I was so afraid to need you. Because before, I always dated someone who ‘completed’ me in some way or ‘balanced me out.’ And when that wasn’t true anymore, everything fell to shit.” She paused for a few seconds to catch her breath. He waited patiently, rubbing soothing circles on her lower back with his thumbs.</p><p>“Something I realized over the last couple of weeks, is that I don’t need you. It’s never been that— wait. That came out wrong,” she said, shaking her head slightly but never breaking contact with his. She expected him to pull away from her or to see his anger flare once more.</p><p>She wasn’t expecting the small laugh that bubbled out of him, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. “Wow. You really are bad at this.” She swatted him playfully on the chest before she continued.</p><p>“What I mean is… it’s not like I’ve kept close to you because you served a specific purpose or kept me comfortable by never pushing me to grow. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always been supportive, but…” She trailed off, trying to find the right words. “It’s just different with you, because no matter what phase of life I’ve been in, I’ve wanted you there. And as someone who struggles to see past her own nose sometimes, wanting all of you means so much more than merely needing a certain something from you, whatever that may be.” She felt tears roll down her face again and fought to keep her voice steady enough to finish. “It means that I love you, and it’s not seasonal. It’s not contingent on this phase of life. I love you, and I want you. I want you with me so much that I haven’t been able to think about much else.” She took a deep breath, terrified of how he would respond. His breathing was a little labored, and she could feel the tension radiating off of him.</p><p>“You love me,” he rasped. All she could do was nod. He moved his hands to each of her cheeks, cradling her face as he spoke.</p><p>“And you want me.” She nodded again. She couldn’t decipher much of anything from his tone, and that scared the shit out of her considering he was usually the open book. She realized the magnitude of how he had bared himself to her all those weeks ago, only to be met with her rejection. The pain he must have felt after being so raw and open.</p><p>”I understand if you don’t have it in you to give that to me anymore. The gods know that I’ve hardly given you a reason to. I just need you to know, but I’ll unders—“</p><p>”Shut <em>up</em>, Nesta,” he said, through a grin, before his lips crashed into hers.</p><p>The kiss was firm and passionate, yet with a gentleness she hadn’t experienced between them before. He angled his head to slant his mouth over hers, running his tongue over the tight seam of her lips in permission. She gasped quietly as she opened up for him, sliding her hand to the nape of his neck. She wove her fingers into his long hair, as if anything less may let him slip away from her. He let out a low growl once her fingers ran over the base of his scalp and nipped gently at her bottom lip. She whimpered at that, causing him to pull back a little to look at her. Her heart clenched at the adoration she saw in his face, and she moved her other hand from its place on his chest. She looped it under his arm, around his ribs, and grasped his shoulder blade. She wanted him closer, using him to ground her in the moment.</p><p>He moved one of his hands to grip her around the waist, his long arm resting across her back. He used the thumb of his other hand to lightly stroke her cheekbone.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have it in me to keep away from you,” he murmured. He bent his knees slightly so that he could lift her around the waist and gripped her thigh with his other hand, sliding her up onto the kitchen island. He brushed his nose softly against hers, gripping her hips as he spoke, “I love you.”</p><p>She ran her hands over his forearms, up his biceps, and rested them atop each of his strong shoulders. She felt shy all a sudden, a soft smile gracing her lips as her eyes flicked up to his. His gaze darkened when she looked at him, and she mustered as much bravado as she could to ask, “And do you want me?”</p><p>He pulled her hips forward at her question, bringing her to the edge of the countertop and as close to him as possible. “Always. In every way,” he purred, bringing his mouth to the soft skin beneath her jaw.</p><p>She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access. Her eyes fluttered shut as she whispered, “Show me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. This Time, Part 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for VERY adult content, strong language, depictions of sex. Definitely NSFW.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“And do you want me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulled her hips forward at her question, bringing her to the edge of the countertop and as close to him as possible. “Always. In every way,” he purred, bringing his mouth to the soft skin beneath her jaw.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access. Her eyes fluttered shut as she whispered, “Show me.”</em>
</p><p>——</p><p>A low, rough chuckle rumbled through his chest at her words before he replied, “Mmm. That sounds like a challenge.” She wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his laugh or the promise in his words, but a chill worked itself down her spine in response.</p><p>She sucked in a short breath when she felt his teeth nip gently at the corner of her jaw, followed by the softest brush of his tongue. Her fingers tightened over his shoulders, kneading the broad muscles and finally finding a home on his traps. She brushed her thumbs up and down the sides of his strong neck as she tightened her thighs around his waist, pulling a long groan from him.</p><p>“Call it whatever you want. As long as you’re up for it,” she breathed.</p><p>He snaked an arm around her waist to pull her impossibly closer. He rolled his hips into her in response to her taunt, and felt her hips angle up of their own accord in search of any friction at all. She wrapped one of her arms around his neck, digging her nails into his shoulder, while the other slid up the back of his neck and into his ebony hair. She gripped the strands at the root, tugging softly, and he relaxed into her so heavily that he had to use his other hand to brace them on the countertop. He was still wrapped tightly around her, hand on her rib cage keeping that solid grip on her, as their bodies found their rhythm together.</p><p>He pressed kisses to her jawline on his way back to her plush mouth and nibbled softly on her lower lip before his were slanting over her mouth yet again. She arched into him so that she could kiss him properly, sliding her tongue across his own. He groaned as he responded in kind, and they stayed there exploring each other in a way they’d yet to in the past. Before now, kissing was a means to and end; intense and purely purposeful. Now it seemed like they were basking in each other, appreciating their time together now that they weren’t pretending it was less than it really was.</p><p>They broke apart, taking deep breaths and moved their mouths to pay special attention to each other’s bodies. Cassian took her earlobe into his mouth, tracing the shell of her ear in soft bites until she was out of his reach. She panted into his neck before kissing him below the jaw, as he had already done to her. She pressed open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck, and his hand left the countertop to grip her thigh tightly, almost as if it were purely out of reflex. She pulled another groan from deep in his throat as she rolled her hips to meet his, whimpering in response. He shifted his grip on her thigh, moving up to the junction at her hip and running his thumb in small circles along the inside, so close to where she wanted him. He pulled his arm from around her waist to grip the other side of her rib cage and ran his thumb on the sensitive underside of her breasts, causing her to lose her point of contact with his neck as she moaned.</p><p>She adjusted, making her way down to where his collarbones met at the base of throat, gently dragging her teeth over them. She heard him sigh heavily as both of his calloused hands made their way under her top and gripped her around the waist. She kissed the parts of his tattoo that were shown by the open neckline of his henley and began tracing the small swirls with her tongue.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Nesta,” he whispered roughly.</p><p>She giggled softly into his chest and leaned back to pull his mouth back to hers. His hands were everywhere now; running over her stomach, her lower back, running his fingers roughly over her shoulder blades. He brought them around to her breasts, running the pads of his thumbs over her peaked nipples. She whined into his mouth, and he paused their kiss, lips still brushing as he spoke.</p><p>“You fucking kill me.” His lips locked on hers again, unable to finish his thought without tasting her again. “And to think we were going to stop doing this.” He pulled her top over her head and placed hot kisses across her shoulder.</p><p>“Tragic,” she breathed, as she ran her hands under his shirt and raked her nails down his shoulders.</p><p>He let out a low growl at the sensation; that fine line where pain turns into pleasure. He palmed her breasts, massaging them roughly and deftly squeezing her nipples between the knuckles of his first two fingers. She mewled into his mouth, writhing with her need to feel his skin on hers and his hips pressing into her as he filled her in the best way.</p><p>“Off,” she demanded as she pushed the hem of his shirt up over his chiseled abdomen. She shamelessly admired him as he pulled it off the rest of the way, watching the muscles of his stomach, chest, and arms contract and relax as he moved. He discarded his shirt on the floor, instantly forgotten, as his eyes trailed the shape of her. He placed a broad hand on her sternum, easing her backward until she was laying across his island. She hissed as the cool countertop met her skin, but it was quickly forgotten when she felt his callouses scraping down the middle of her body to her waistband. He flicked the button of her pants open with one hand and gripped her calves to move her legs over his wide shoulders. He grabbed the waistband of her pants and started to pull them down, and she used her legs’ placement on his shoulders as leverage to lift her hips.</p><p>His hazel eyes grew darker as he looked down at her, only thin scraps of lace obscuring his view of her body. She had the fleeting thought that she could never imagine herself being so bold with anyone else; sprawled across their kitchen island, nearly nude. But with Cassian, she felt like she could be anywhere, wearing anything or nothing at all, and she would feel wholly confident.</p><p>“Cassian,” she murmured.</p><p>His eyes snapped up to hers, almost as if she’d broken the trance she had him under.</p><p>“Touch me. Please.”</p><p>He took his bottom lip between his teeth and breathed heavily as his hands ran over her legs. He started kissing from her ankle, down her leg, and back up the other. He stroked the back of his nails up her legs until he reached her hips where he gripped her and pulled her ass to the very edge of the counter. He leaned over her, resting his weight on a hand next to her head, and she reached up with her own hand to grip his wrist. He kissed her roughly as his fingers ran over her folds, only the sheer lace separating his skin from her core. He stroked her lazily over the fabric, then gently tugged it to the side. He ran his finger through her folds as he pulled back from the kiss to look down at her. He traced a small circle at her opening, teasing the hell out of her in the most frustrating way.</p><p>“Cass,” she begged, rolling her hips as she tried to get closer to him.</p><p>He maintained eye contact with her as he inserted his long finger into her. She moaned obscenely at the pleasure just a simple touch gave and couldn’t stop her eyes from fluttering shut. He pumped his finger several times before adding another, her back arching to take full advantage of the sensation. She was bucking her hips, effectively riding his hand when she felt his thumb start to circle her clit delicately. She cried out, one hand still holding the wrist near her head and the other white-knuckled at the edge of the countertop.</p><p>“Look at me,” he rasped. She met his gaze and thought she would come at the heat in his eyes alone. “I want to see you come for me.” Her breath hitched as he applied more pressure to her sensitive nub, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of her at a steady rhythm. She felt herself clenching around his fingers; every muscle in her body tense. In a matter of seconds, she felt her release barrel through her, her back arching sharply as she rode out the high.</p><p>She muttered a string of curses, his name tumbling from her lips in earnest as she came. She threw her head back, largely out of her control, nails digging into his wrist as he worked her through her orgasm. She had barely recovered when she felt him lower her legs, scoop her up under her back, and pull her into his chest. She hugged her body to his as she kissed him languidly, before running her fingers down his stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants. She ran her fingers back and forth under the waistband teasingly and watched as his abs tightened at her touch.</p><p>He lifted her by her thighs, her legs automatically wrapping around his middle.</p><p>“Bed. Now,” he said, between kisses, as he started to travel out of the kitchen and through the living room.</p><p>She felt his impressive length rest just below her, and she reached down to palm him through his pants. He hissed at the contact, and she lowered her mouth to his neck once again. The combination of her touch and her lips on his skin seemed to shred all of his composure, and she found her back being pressed roughly against the wall in his hallway, his weight leaning deliciously on her.</p><p>“Nesta,” he ground out. “I’ll never get us there if you keep touching me like that. Fuck.” He pulled back from her just enough to settle his length between their hips, and he was rolling them into her yet again. He dropped his head to her shoulder, and she felt his warm breath fan over her chest. Her arms were around him, cradling his head as she worked her hips in time with his.</p><p>“Cass. I don’t care where you fuck me, but I need you inside me,” she breathed, followed by a low moan as his cock applied the perfect pressure to her core.</p><p>He gripped her roughly around her waist with one arm and used the other to brace under her thigh. He walked swiftly to his room, not bothering to close the door before laying her down on his bed. He pushed his sweats and boxer briefs to the floor, stepping out of them, before crawling from the end of the bed over her body. His mouth was littering her body with wet kisses and small bites as she helped him remove her panties, tossing them off to the side. She arched her back, allowing him access to the clasp of her thin, lace bra. He artfully undid the clasp with just his thumb and index finger, tossing it over to join her discarded underwear. She thought she might explode if she didn’t have him.</p><p>When he made his way up to her face and rested his weight on his elbows above her, he paused, looking at her with so much devotion that she thought her chest would cleave in two. He smiled then, letting out a breathy laugh, and offering an almost imperceptible head shake as he looked down at her. She placed her hands on either side of his head, running her fingers through his hair and caressing his cheeks with both thumbs.</p><p>“What?” she asked, her voice quiet.</p><p>He looked almost shy as he spoke, “Nothing. You’re beautiful.”</p><p>She smiled, knowing he meant every word, but quirked an eyebrow at him. “Nice try. What is it?” She continued stroking his face, and she swore he almost purred as she did so.</p><p>He cleared his throat, closing his eyes briefly before looking into her eyes again. She could still see his desire for her there, but there was something monumentally bigger in his expression, too.</p><p>”I’ve just… never made love to you like this,” he stated. Upon seeing the confusion flash across her features, thinking of the dozens of times they’d slept together, he clarified, “… with you being mine, I mean.”</p><p>She was in awe of him, yet again, for his candor and for the trust he was demonstrating to her by being so open. Even after everything she had put him through. His emotional intelligence and flexibility had always impressed her, especially when hers could be damn near pathetic at times. However, he continued to surprise her with his ability to identify what he was feeling at a drop of a hat; case in point, transitioning flawlessly from pure lust and passion to unadulterated love.</p><p>She smiled at him, utterly speechless. Deciding against trying, and potentially failing, to express what she felt at his words, she pressed her hand to his shoulder to prompt him to roll over. She straddled his hips as she pressed her lips to his again. She kissed him slowly, thoroughly, hoping to the Cauldron that she could portray what he meant to her. She rocked her hips against him, her folds gliding over his cock as she moved. He groaned into her mouth and gripped her tightly at the hips to guide her rhythm over him.</p><p>“Are you mine?” she asked quietly, her lips still brushing over his. She barely recognized the sultry voice coming from her as she reached down to angle him properly at her entrance.</p><p>“Yes. <em>Gods, ye—</em>“ his voice dropped off roughly, turning into nothing more than a long groan as she sank down onto his length. Her hands were braced on his broad chest, her fingers free to trace the intricate lines of his tattoos once she was fully seated. She took her time admiring them, and the incredible build beneath, as she adjusted to having his generous girth fill her.</p><p>His thumbs were tracing circles over her hip bones as he shamelessly took in her body in return. When their eyes finally met, he sat up, wrapping both of his arms around her in a warm embrace. He reached up to tuck a small tendril of hair softly behind her ear, kissing her as his arm joined the other once again.</p><p>She started to move on him, riding him at a moderate pace. She experimented with her direction, her angle, and her speed, finding the perfect combination to have both of them moaning and their bodies slick with a thin layer of sweat. Her arms were draped around his neck, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she rode him. He dropped his brow to her chest, holding her tightly around her middle as his breaths became more labored. She moved her hands, one finding its home on his bicep and the other on the back of his neck. She brushed his long hair to the side, allowing cool air to reach the back before using his neck to anchor her as she began rocking faster on his lap. Her breath was leaving her in pants, and she wasn’t sure when she started to emit whimpers at every other exhale. She may have been shy about how vocal she’d been thus far, but it didn’t seem appropriate when there was no way she could help it, even if she wanted to.</p><p>”Fuck, Nes. Just like that, baby,” he encouraged. “Oh, <em>fuck.</em>” Cassian had always been a talker in bed, but something about how he was speaking to her now was making her wild. She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d gone so long now without hearing it or if it was the new electricity they managed to kindle today. Whatever it was, it was doing things to her. When he dug his fingertips into her back, she couldn’t help crying out his name loudly.</p><p>Hearing his name must have sparked something in him, causing him to thrust sharply into her and use his hips to roll over. Her back was pressed deliciously into the mattress by his weight, their contact never broken during the transition. He settled his hips into hers before bringing one of his knees up and out to the side, the position causing her leg to prop over his thigh and providing him the ability to reach even deeper than before. He secured one of her hands in his on the pillow near her head, putting his weight on his elbow, and used the other to trail teasing touches over her nipples, the undersides of her breasts, and her abdomen. He took his time with his ministrations, pulling various forms of moans, whimpers, and curses from her as she writhed beneath him.</p><p>Her other hand was gripping the sheets, trying to use them to pull her even closer to him and create friction where she needed it. He adjusted accordingly, not allowing her to take any pleasure he wasn’t ready to deliver yet. “Cassian,” she commanded, her voice communicating the silent order: <em>move</em>.</p><p>“You’re so bossy today,” he purred, as he pressed his lips to her forehead, her nose, her lips, then her throat.</p><p>“I’m always bossy,” she said through slightly clenched teeth. She could barely stand the teasing anymore, it nearly driving her to madness.</p><p>He pulled back out slowly, and eased back into her with the same tantalizing pace. Once his hips were flush against her again, he pressed just a fraction harder and deeper. She saw stars at the extra attention to that sensitive spot deep within her combined with the divine pressure of his pelvis running over her clit. She clenched around him, earning a growl from deep in his chest, but his pace never faltered. She bucked her hips, encouraging him to drive her to the edge of her release. He used his free hand to brace her hips into the bed before he kissed her roughly.</p><p>“Patience, Nes,” he said against her mouth. He maintained the same slow thrusts, pulsing into her a little harder once he was buried in her, before pulling back to do it all again.</p><p>“Cass, please. <em>Please</em>. I need— <em>Fuck</em>. You feel so good.“ she was struggling to formulate a sentence, the growing pressure in her lower abdomen becoming almost too much. She wanted so desperately for him to unleash himself, knowing that moving faster would have her calling his name in a handful of thrusts. He was delaying her climax with his agonizing pace, but she realized very quickly his motive. The build up was so much more intense, her body taut as a bow string, waiting for that final stroke that would release all of her tension at a blinding level of pleasure. Sure, he could get her off quickly, but he wanted to draw this out and give her as much pleasure as her body would allow before it gave in.</p><p>She arched against him reflexively, and he moved his hand from her hip to wrap his arm around her waist, clutching her to his body. She was a mess under him, her moans increasing in volume and ending in high-pitched whimpers as he worked her.</p><p>“Look at you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I think I could come just looking at you.” His eyes scanned her face and he lowered his mouth yet again. He kissed her softly, her cries making it difficult to maintain contact.</p><p>“Please. I’m so close,” she managed to squeak out. He maintained his pace, but he finished his strokes harder, rocking her back and forth with the impact. He let out a growl as he felt her tighten around him, knowing she was as close as she claimed.</p><p>He ran his nose along her hairline at her temple, not wanting to overwhelm her or distract from the pleasure coursing between her legs.</p><p>“Cassian!” she cried, as she released the sheets in favor of gripping his shoulder blade. She was frantic, gripping to his shoulder and digging her nails in as she neared her release. He let her other hand go, moving his own into her hair and supporting her head where she had tucked it into his neck. Her hand mirrored the other, her fingers digging roughly into his back as she placed a firm bite to the skin where his neck met his shoulders. “<em>Shit</em>, Cass. Oh, gods. Oh, gods. Fuck. <em>Please</em>— I don’t think I can—“</p><p>”Hey,” he whispered into her ear, “Relax, baby. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He thrust into her firmly again before adding, “Cauldron, I love you. Come for me, Nes.”</p><p>Her head tilted back then, and he helped ease it back onto the pillow. Her mouth was open in the perfect “O”, and she held a long breath before crying out at her release. She uttered his name, a stream of curses, and gods know what else as the pleasure took her over completely. She was seeing a blinding white behind her eyelids, followed by stars, before her eyelids fluttered open to look into his handsome face. His jaw was clenched, flexing as he continued to drive into her. He was close, his neck and shoulders looking as rigid as ever above her. His eyes snapped shut, and she grabbed his face to kiss him roughly. His hips stuttered, and suddenly she felt his cock twitching inside her as his orgasm hit him. He tucked his face into her neck as he rode it out, moaning roughly and loudly crying out her name until he’d come down from his high.</p><p>His weight sagged on top of her for a few seconds before he braced himself on both elbows. He looked down, kissed her lips once, twice, three times, as he withdrew from her to roll onto his back. She threw one arm over her eyes as the other reached toward him, finding his arm and looping hers around it. She was too spent to move toward him yet, but she couldn’t bear not touching him either. She finally managed to turn her head toward him, finding that he was already looking at her.</p><p>“Hi,” he said simply. His smile was devastating.</p><p>She mustered the energy to roll his direction, ending up on her stomach. She rested her head on her crossed arms, and he rested his recently dismissed hand on her ass.</p><p>“Hey,” she muttered lamely. “Have you been holding out on me? That was…” She trailed off as she closed her eyes.</p><p>He turned his head toward the ceiling and closed his eyes as well. “Mmm. Not intentionally. I guess I was just inspired,” he said. She could hear the smirk in his voice, the cocky bastard.</p><p>“It wouldn’t be the first time my own prowess inspired greatness in someone,” she deadpanned.</p><p>A deep chuckle rumbled through him as he playfully pinched her on the ass. She yelped, opening her eyes to glare at him, but ultimately decided she was incapable of much else.</p><p>“Can I get you anything?” he asked quietly.</p><p>“Mmm. No. Just gonna lay here for a minute,” she replied, her smushed cheek making her words sound jumbled.</p><p>”You sure? You usually at least want something to drink. Or a book to read while I nap. Now that I think about it, you always read after we have sex.”</p><p>She felt emboldened by exhaustion and post-sex endorphins, muttering, “To be fair, you’ve never fucked me like that, though.” She huffed a laugh through her nose and offered him a half smile to ensure he knew she was joking.</p><p>He threw his head back as he laughed, the warm sound flowing over her like it had all those years ago. She’d been right— she’d do anything to keep him happy like this.</p><p>“Well, I guess you’ll have to rest up with me, then. I’m nowhere near done with you,” he promised. He turned toward her, pulling the sheet over her and resting his arm across her back. He kissed her on the forehead, settling down on the pillow next to her.</p><p>As soon as his eyes closed, he felt the drag of sleep gripping him. Before he drifted away completely, he heard Nesta’s soft voice; the very last thing he heard before getting some of the most restful sleep of his life.</p><p>“I love you, Cassian.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. This Time, Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for sexual content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nesta awoke to the feeling of calloused hands running down her back and a heavy weight draped across her hips. She raised her head to locate the offender, her eyes trailing over a long, tan thigh, some unmentionables, a firm stomach, broad chest, and landing on a pair of bright hazel eyes.</p><p>“Would you get off of me? You’re massive,” she ground out.</p><p>He was seated across her backside, running his hands down her back in broad strokes. He paused at her lower back and repeated the motion in reverse. Once his hands made their way back to her neck, he sprawled them across her shoulders and onto the bed, as he leaned over onto his elbows to hold his weight.</p><p>“Apologies, milady,” he joked, nipping the top of her ear playfully. “I guess I’ll go.”</p><p>He started to roll away from her, but her hand reached back to grasp his cheek to stop him. She pulled his face toward her own, raising her head to graze her lips over his as she spoke.</p><p>“No. I miss you,” she breathed against his mouth.</p><p>He smiled through their kiss as his hand shifted back down her body, lifting her hips slightly. Her breath hitched as he slid into her, his mouth claiming hers as he moved. Her fingers found their way into his hair, and he grunted into her mouth as she tugged the strands. His pace increased, the only sounds in the room being the crumpling of the sheets, their bodies moving together, and the small cries Nesta emitted with each thrust. He broke the kiss to rest his forehead on the back of her own head as they finished together, whispering each others’ names as they rode out their pleasure.</p><p>He rolled onto his side next to her, and she turned to tuck her face into the center of his chest. She took a deep breath, basking in the comfort of his scent and his arms around her.</p><p>“I think I could stay right here forever,” she mused.</p><p> </p><p>——————————————————————————</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>12 years later</b>
  </em>
</p><p>——————————————————————————</p><p>Unsure of what provoked such specific thoughts of her and Cassian’s fervid affair, Nesta shook her head to snap back into the present. Her daughter’s loud squeal caught her attention, and she let out a long chuckle as she watched her run through a small flock of birds that had landed in their yard. She had her arms thrust out to her sides, trying to blend in as a member, and she flapped them in earnest as she approached.</p><p>Nesta found herself envious of her 4-year-old’s free spirit sometimes, knowing she didn’t have it in her on a molecular level. Ironically, the young girl was Nesta’s carbon copy in appearance. Her heart caught anytime Annie looked at her with eyes identical to her own, yet with an entirely different soul beneath.</p><p>“She’s such a busy body,” her son remarked, the fondness in his eyes for his sister negating his tone. He was seated in the wooden chair next to Nesta, book rested in his lap, as he watched his younger sibling run through the flock. He wore an expression far beyond his meager 10 years.</p><p>Nesta huffed a laugh at his comment, noting the amount of herself she heard in his voice. While her daughter was everything Nesta was not, her son was so much like her that it could be scary at times.</p><p>“That’s just how she’s made, love. Let her live,” she replied, with an air of mock defensiveness for her daughter.</p><p>“I am!” he insisted. “It just seems like she would be… I dunno. Tired, sometimes.”</p><p>Nesta laughed openly at that, understanding his perspective more than she could explain to him.</p><p>“I get it. She’s just different from you and me, you know? Your Uncle Azriel once told me that people like me and you need people like your sister. She keeps life interesting,” she mused, a soft smile of adoration plastered across her face for her daughter.</p><p>“Aunt Elain says Uncle Az is a know-it-all,” he snarked.</p><p>She snorted another laugh, but before she could respond, the subject of their conversation rounded the corner of the porch.</p><p>“Sounds like I need to have a talk with your Aunt Elain,” he joked, messing up his hair playfully.</p><p>“Unc,” he scowled, “stop it.” Despite his frustrations, he stood and hugged Azriel, still young enough to idolize everything about his uncle.</p><p>“Can I help with anything, Nes?” Azriel asked from over his nephew’s head.</p><p>Elain walked up behind him, both of their daughters in tow.</p><p>“ABIDUS,” their youngest, Cosette, squealed from Elain’s arms. The two-year-old was still working on “Atticus”, and Nesta had to admit it was a mouthful.</p><p>Nesta beamed proudly as her son released his uncle, turning his affections to the toddler immediately. A smile made its way to his face, and he extended his hands in invitation. She leaned forward enthusiastically, no doubt in her young mind that her older cousin would catch her every single time. She squeezed tightly around his neck as he started to walk down the steps to meet Annie in the yard.</p><p>“Coming, Cath?” he called over his shoulder to the older of his cousins.</p><p>Catherine had her arm around Elain’s lower back, her face tucked into her mother’s waist. She was tall for her tender age of 8, taking after her father. At the mention of her name, her hazel eyes peeked around Elain and brightened at the sight of her sister and cousins all greeting each other.</p><p>“Yep,” she replied shyly, as she walked down the porch steps.</p><p>“She just woke up from a nap in the backseat,” Elain explained. “She’s still waking up, I think.”</p><p>“No need to explain,” Nesta insisted as she wrapped her sister in a tight hug. “Especially to me.”</p><p>She felt comforted by her sister’s tight squeeze and held her just a few seconds longer than usual. It had been a while since they could all get together, and she’d missed her sisters greatly.</p><p>She turned her attentions to Azriel, wrapping him in a tight hug around his middle just as Atticus had done moments ago. He returned the gesture, placing a soft kiss to the top of her head.</p><p>“You never answered me, you know. Can I do anything?”</p><p>“No,” she responded as she pulled away from him, “enjoy our kids, I guess. Everything is almost done inside, so we’re just waiting on everyone else to join us.”</p><p>“Oh,” Elain interjected, “I just talked to Feyre as we were pulling up. Her and Rhys are wrangling their small circus and heading this way shortly.”</p><p>The sisters shared a low, fond chuckle at the thought of the chaos their youngest sister was mediating at the moment. There was a time where Nesta and Elain had gaped at Feyre when she mentioned she and Rhys wanting four kids, but now, it was hard to imagine their family any other way.</p><p>“Seriously, go have fun with the kids,” she ordered. “I’m going to check on the food, and I’ll bring out a bottle of wine to share until the rest of the crew shows up.”</p><p>“Where is your husband, anyway?” Azriel inquired.</p><p>“He’ll be here soon— got tied up,” she assured him, even though she wasn’t entirely sure what was keeping him.</p><p>She turned toward the door to slip back inside. Truth be told, Nesta needed a minute with her thoughts. Her memories from only minutes ago were clanging through her brain, and she needed a few minutes to get her head on straight. She could hardly host a family dinner with thoughts of her and Cassian’s early days swimming around in her head; specifically, between the sheets.</p><p>Their relationship had been everything they’d expected and more. That’s not to say there weren’t struggles here and there, but they managed to work through things as a team as they had in their years as best friends. They had dated for for a little over a year until Cassian had decided he wasn’t “satisfied” by the state of their relationship anymore, the statement still causing an ache in her chest all these years later.</p><p>Her thoughts were promptly replaced by checking on the meal she was preparing for her family. Everything was looking as it should, so she turned her attention to the glassware collection to grab wine glasses for the adults. She selected a white and a red, grabbed a corkscrew, and balanced her haul in two arms as she made her way outside.</p><p>There was an intense game of “Red Rover” occurring among the group, poor Azriel getting left out every time. None of them dared to call him over, knowing he would be able to run through their grip effortlessly. He looked totally unbothered, content to watch their family play together no matter what that meant for him.</p><p>Unwilling to disrupt them so soon, Nesta rested the wine bottles on the porch railing with the glasses next to them. She sat down in the wooden chair she occupied earlier, watching them play as an SUV pulled into the driveway. Her husband climbed out, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up just below the elbows and tie abandoned entirely in favor of an open neckline.</p><p>“DADDY,” Annie yelled, breaking into a full run toward the man getting out of the vehicle. She showed no regard for his slacks or polished shoes as she barreled into him, near-climbing up his legs in an attempt to reach his upper body for a hug. He lifted her easily, pulling her into his chest and kissing her hair.</p><p>“Hey, Spitfire,” he said. “Looks like you’re having a good time out here.”</p><p>“We are!” Annie yelled. “Come play with us! Unc’s not gettin’ to play a whole lot.”</p><p>He laughed, setting her down to rejoin the others. “I’d love to. Let me check in with momma and change clothes, yeah?”</p><p>“K!” She ran off, no harm done by the delay in his joining them.</p><p>He made his way over to Nesta, taking the porch steps two at a time. She rose to meet him, and he placed a soft kiss to her forehead.</p><p>“Hey, love,” he murmured.</p><p>“Hi,” she breathed. “Dinner’s done. And there’s wine if you want some.”</p><p>“Thanks. I’m sorry I’m late. I should have called, but I got caught in mediation longer than I expected. The good thing is, we’ve settled out of court, so that lightens my load for a little while.”</p><p>“It’s okay. I understand,” she assured him.</p><p>“Something wrong? You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, Nes.” He reached out to run his hands over her shoulders.</p><p>“Just thinking is all.” His brows scrunched at her words. “No big deal; just some nostalgia really. Go get changed. Annie is counting down the seconds,” she laughed.</p><p>“As long as you promise you’re okay.”</p><p>“I am. I swear.”</p><p>It wasn’t a total lie. In the purest sense, she was fine. She had half of her family with her, the other half joining them any minute now. The only problems were the incessant day dreaming and the intense emotions accompanying them.</p><p>“Come on,” he urged her, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’ll change, and you talk.”</p><p>He didn’t believe her. She supposed years of marriage counted for something, but she fought the bristling of her defenses all the same. She wanted to be alone to work through her emotions, but it appeared she wouldn’t be blessed with that today.</p><p>They walked in silence, him guiding her hand in hand to their bedroom. He prompted her to sit at the foot of their bed while he started to undress, his body angled sideways to allow him to look toward her and place what he needed to on their dresser simultaneously. He pulled his keys and wallet from his pockets, placed them in the small dish, and patted around his pockets for his phone. He placed that face down on the corner and turned his attention to the remaining buttons of his shirt.</p><p>He kept his gaze forward as he spoke, and she knew he was trying not to seem as though he was interrogating her.</p><p>“What’s on your mind?” His voice was a near whisper.</p><p>“I mean.. I don’t know exactly. I’m just especially emotional today. I’ve been replaying memories from my past all day, and I can’t shake it. But it’s nothing you should worry about.” Her voice was quiet but sure.</p><p>“Of course I’m worried about it— worried about you. I can almost hear you thinking. I hope you know I’m here if you need anything is all.”</p><p>She could tell he was restraining himself, his annoyance peeking through in small ways like how he oriented his body fully toward the dresser now. The room was tense around them, but she knew there was nothing she could say that would relieve his worries without giving him a snapshot into her headspace. He would never demand it of her if she felt adamantly against it, but she had learned in their time together that he worried a little less when she shared a glimpse with him.</p><p>“One thing I’ve played and replayed in my head was the day you proposed,” she shared quietly.</p><p>His shoulders tensed but relaxed immediately, almost as if he had expected something terrible and been spared.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>She bit her lip, weirdly shy about sharing the moment entirely from her perspective.</p><p>—</p><p>
  <em>He is picking her up from her apartment for date night, telling her it’s a surprise. He helps her into his truck and drives for what seems like forever. They finally pull off the road into what looks like nothing but dense forest with a small, dirt road leading to nowhere. He keeps driving, suddenly making his way into a clearing. Nesta blinks against the dark several times and realizes it’s not only a clearing; it’s a small cliff overlooking the city. From here, they can marvel at the beauty of their city and the stars alike, and Nesta thinks it may be the most beautiful place she’s ever visited.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He gets out of his truck and urges her to stay until he has everything settled. She hears the tailgate open, followed by rummaging sounds in the bed of his truck. His feet hit the earth roughly, and she hears his footsteps kicking up gravel and foliage as he makes his way to her. Her door flies open, and he extends his hand to her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We’re having a picnic,” he announces proudly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A picnic? It’s dark!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I did think of that. I brought candles. Ye of little faith,” he teases.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She turns at the end of the bed of the truck, looking at what he has set up. The bed has blankets laid all over, extras thrown around for them to snuggle into if they want to. There are pillows haphazardly stacked toward the cab of the truck and a small ice chest in the center. He grips her waist, lifting her to sit on the tailgate, and turns to lift himself to sit next to her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“All these pillows and blankets, and you want to sit here?” she jokes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He is leaning on his palms, shoulders high and tense as she talks. He clears his throat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Um. Yeah. I guess I didn’t think that through. I probably should have talked to you first now that I think about it.”</em>
</p><p>—</p><p>“You realize I was there, right? Are you really going to put me through this cringe-worthy proposal all over again?” There was humor in his voice, and she felt like she could breathe again.</p><p>“You asked! If I have to think about it, you’re coming down with me!”</p><p>—</p><p>
  <em>“What does that mean?” Her heart is racing now, and she feels the blood leaving her hands and feet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He clears his throat a second time, a clear indication of his nerves. “I guess I should just come out with it. As you know, we’ve been together a while now, and it’s been great.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Still waiting on you to come out with it,” she mutters.</em>
</p><p>“<em>Sorry— I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think I’m satisfied with where we are anymore.”</em></p><p>
  <em>All of the blood is draining from Nesta’s face, and she thinks she may vomit. Was this really happening to her? This is why she doesn’t trust people, why she doesn’t let people in, why she doesn’t let people see her—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s not enough for me,” he continues. She can’t bear to hear anymore, and she’s opening her mouth before she can think better of it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What the fuck? Did you really bring me all the way out here, to only the gods know where, to break up with me? What is wrong with you? Who does that?” she fumes. “Take me home.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” he scrambles, “Nes, I’m not breaking up with you.” He hops down from where he’s sitting to stand in front of her, his hands coming up to cup her face. “Gods, I’m fucking this up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You are on borrowed time. Whatever it is you’re doing, you need to do it,” she orders, head still spinning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Marry me,” he states simply, as if it’s the most reasonable request in the world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She blinks up at him, unsure of what she’s heard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve never known love like I’ve known it with you. You have been the greatest joy of my life, and all I want is to continue trying to make you happy. To wake up next to you everyday. To have a family together. To be partners in this life. Nesta Archeron, will you marry me?” Tears are brimming on his lower eyelids, and she remembers she has to speak.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She nods vigorously, unable to say it out loud initially. “Yes,” she finally whispers, tears streaming down her face. This isn’t the way she thought this was going, but she’s so happy this is where it ended up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah?” he asks excitedly. His smile is breathtaking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” she assures him and pulls his face to hers.</em>
</p><p>—</p><p>He slid out of his button down and pulled his undershirt off, busying himself to try to hide the blush across his cheeks.</p><p>“All things considered, it wasn’t so bad. It all worked out,” she teased. Her heart was already lighter by talking to him, and all she had done was share her thoughts aloud.</p><p>“I fucked that up royally, and you know it. I don’t know why we can’t just let it go,” he said through a laugh.</p><p>“Never,” she insisted, reveling in his discomfort. “Actually, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll never mention this proposal story again if, and only if, you retire it. You know exactly what I mean, too, so don’t play dumb.”</p><p>He whirled around, eyes huge as he assessed her. She took in his bare torso, as devastating as ever, and found herself growing warmer under his attention.</p><p>“I’m up here, wife. And no. No deal,” he said adamantly.</p><p>“Come ON,” she lamented, “Archeron isn’t even my last name anymore! It’s way past time to let it go.”</p><p>“Sorry, Archie. You know I’ll take it to the grave with me. I don’t make the rules,” he said, as he pulled a grey tee over his head, the color accentuating the very small strip of greys against an onyx backdrop.</p><p>The only time his grey hair was visible was when he had his strands pulled back, and in the unfair way of the universe, the only grey he’d started to show was that one strip at his temple. Every other strand had remained as black as ever, almost as if he’d placed it there artificially. He was aging like fine wine, indeed.</p><p>“What do you mean, you don’t make the rules? You quite literally do,” she demanded, doing her best to ignore her disrobing husband.</p><p>He pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and lowered himself to the carpet in front of her. He situated himself between her legs and wrapped his long arms tightly around her middle, resting his head on her chest.</p><p>“I missed you today,” he deflected.</p><p>She hummed her agreement as she loosed his hair and ran her fingers through. They sat in silence for a couple of seconds before he spoke again, his voice muffled.</p><p>“You are especially nostalgic today, sweetheart. The last time you got this sappy on me was when…” his voice trailed off as his entire body went rigid. He looked up at her, eyes full of questions.</p><p>“When I was pregnant with Atticus. And again with Annie,” she finished casually, fingers never stopping their ministrations.</p><p>“Are you serious?” His voice was equal parts excited and terrified, a feeling Nesta had been experiencing since taking the test that morning.</p><p>All she managed was a nod as tears started to roll down her face.</p><p>His hands were instantly on her face, similar to all those years ago on the tailgate of his truck, where he stood between her legs and cradled her face as he asked her to be his wife.</p><p>“We’re having another baby,” he stated fondly, then, “We were supposed to be done.”</p><p>She laughed through her tears, wiping away the few running freely down his face now.</p><p>“We were, but it looks like we’re not,” she replied. “Are you happy?”</p><p>He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply and with something near reverence. “Couldn’t be happier. Can we tell our family now?”</p><p>“Of course, Cass. But I’m the one who announced it last time.”</p><p>She pressed another kiss to his lips as they stood together.</p><p>“This time, it’s on you.”</p>
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